Ohio
by jespah
Summary: In later 3109, Sr. Temporal Agent Rick Daniels takes new agent Sheilagh Bernstein on a training mission to May 4, 1970, Kent State University. They had no one to blame but themselves. Time was again messed up, but no one else was at fault. Still, someone was watching, and taking notes. They had their own dilemma to deal with: how do you decide who lives, and who dies? Who's worthy?
1. Chapter 1

This time, they had no one to blame but themselves.

Time was again messed up, but no one else was at fault. Still, someone was watching, and taking notes.

And they had their own dilemma to deal with – how do you decide who lives, and who dies? Who's worthy of saving?

 _Star Trek  
Enterprise_

 _Ohio_

A Star Trek Fan Fiction By  
J. R. Gershen-Siegel

 **This is a fan written work**

The copyrights & trademarks of Star Trek are owned by  
Paramount Pictures, CBS Corporation and their licensee, Pocket Books. Any attempt to sell or rent this book should be reported to the copyright owners for their action

 _Tin soldiers and Nixon coming,  
we're finally on our own.  
This summer I hear the drumming.  
Four dead in Ohio.  
_  
\- Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young (Ohio)

=/\=

Richard Malcolm Daniels had spent most of a month with his parents. This was not a normal state of affairs. Usually, he'd be working, or off birddogging some woman or another. But for the nonce, instead, he had taken some time off. It was a time to be reflective, and to nurse a heart that wasn't exactly broken, although it was pretty exquisitely bent.

His parents were occupied with the preparations for his father's sixty-fifth birthday party – and with each other. They would call each other from other parts of the house, probably more because they enjoyed saying each other's names so much than for any other purpose. So he would hear _Chloe_ or _Steven_ several times per day whenever they were both at home.

When they went out to work, they called each other several times, and if one of them was home during one of these calls he would hear laughter or murmured endearments. They retired to bed early, and got up late, and could scarcely keep their eyes or hands off one another, even though they'd been married for over four decades.

In short, in a house with three occupants, he was the only one not gettin' any.

A few days after his father's party, on September fifth of 3109, Rick felt up to returning to his work at the Temporal Integrity Commission. He called his boss, Admiral Carmen Calavicci.

"Ah, our prodigal son wants to return," she said.

"I guess that would be me," he said, "I, uh, my time off, was that a big problem?"

"Not at all. There's been very little activity. I'm just about ready to go ahead and hire two more Temporal Agents. There is a third, you remember the ancient computers specialist?"

"Sure," he said, "Sheilagh Bernstein."

"Correct," Carmen said, "She'd like to meet you before she says yes to anything."

"Oh, huh, I'm sorry, I guess she was kept waiting," he said.

"I think it'll be all right. Contact her and set it up, then come in, all right? You'll be working on training her, you know. Calavicci out."

He tapped his left ear once, to engage an implanted communicator and initiate a call.

She answered almost immediately, "I'm on Mars. Can you come here, or should I go there? Er, wherever you are?"

"Titan," he said, "Let's meet on Io. That's more or less halfway. There's a diner, we can get tuna melts or whatever."

"Tuna?"

"Then get something else. They've got a menu longer than your arm."

"Okay," she said, "See you at thirteen hundred hours. Bernstein out."

"Ma? Dad? I'm going out to lunch," he called, but Steven and Chloe did not hear him as they moved together, familiar yet exciting, as they had for over forty years and, hopefully, would for several decades more.

=/\=

The diner was small, done up in a retro 2300s style. There were dabo girls and wheels. Money had long since been abolished, so all gambling was done for fun, or to pit your skills against an opponent or test your luck.

It was a little bit like meeting a blind date. He wasn't nervous – he was generally a rather confident guy. It was more a matter of anticipation than anything else.

He got there later than he expected, and found her, a not unattractive blonde, sitting at a table by herself. She smiled and shook hands with him when he arrived. He noticed, but didn't mention it, but she pleasantly smelled a bit of vanilla. She was wearing a suit and looking a bit uncomfortable.

"Oh, I hope you don't think of this as a job interview," he said, "I dislike them, so stiff and artificial and formal."

"Yes, it's a bit like the court of King Louis XIV," she said, "It's all posturing."

"Like a wolf pack, too, I suppose," he said, "Uh, the posturing, that is," he added quickly.

"Does this mean we're supposed to circle each other and sniff?"

"Uh, well, maybe later," he said. That could be a good thing. He already liked her lack of pretense.

"What's good here?"

"Besides tuna? Huh, pretty much anything."

"Good!" they put their orders in and were left alone, "So, I'd like to ask you a few things."

"Gotcha," he said, "Recognize that we're in a public place and a lot of things are confidential. So I reserve the right to parry some of your questions, or just be vague."

"That works for me. Do you, well, do you like it?"

"It's interesting. I like a lot of pieces of it."

"But not everything?"

"No job is perfect, Sheilagh."

"Of course not, it's just I'm coming from being my own boss. Does, uh, how is Carmen as a boss?"

"Fair – and I don't mean fair to middling, but rather fair as in balanced. She's mostly hands off. You do your assignments, and she doesn't care much how you do them, so long as they're done and you don't create other problems along the way."

"What if you mess up and create other problems?"

"Well, it happens," he allowed, "She's good about letting me clean them up. Of course with a few of us, we might be fixing each other's messes on occasion."

"What about Roger Lloyd and Gillian Harper?"

"Oh, you looked up two of my predecessors."

"I did. Neither of them lasted very long in the job. Why do you suppose that was the case?"

"Lloyd wasn't very competent, when all was said and done. Harper, she, well, she had a breakdown."

"I'm sorry I asked."

"Hey, you didn't know," he said as their food arrived.

"How do you handle irregularities when you're out there?" she asked as soon as their waitress had departed.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Isn't the medical care terrible most of the time? How do you get out of being bled?"

"Huh," he looked around. No one seemed to be watching them, "Are you squeamish?"

"Not particularly."

"You use that steak knife yet?"

"Nope. Here."

"Don't react verbally to what I'm about to do, okay?"

"What?"

He placed the knife against the palm of his hand and pushed in, making a gash about four centimeters long. He cringed in pain, his face betraying more of a reaction than the cut should have evoked in him. The wound bled a bit, so he dipped the corner of his napkin into the blood. The napkin absorbed a tiny amount, "Watch," he said.

The wound closed up nearly immediately. The entire procedure took less than a minute, and the only evidence there had been a cut at all was the small amount of blood that had been absorbed by the napkin.

"How?"

"We'll talk somewhere more private. They'll fix you up this way as well. Other things, too."

"Are you an," she whispered the last word, "Augment?"

"In private. Can you, uh, can you wait until then?"

"Uh, sure. And waitress, can I get another knife? This one, uh, it's been used."

=/\=

 _Gotta get down to it  
Soldiers are cutting us down,  
Should have been done long ago.  
What if you knew her  
and found her dead on the ground?  
How can you run when you know?  
_  
\- Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young (Ohio)


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

 _Gotta get down to it  
Soldiers are cutting us down,  
should have been done long ago.  
What if you knew her  
and found her dead on the ground?  
How can you run when you know?  
_  
\- Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young (Ohio)

=/\=

They transported to the Temporal Integrity Commission together. Rick was able to bypass all of the way stations. His access overrode most of the posturing and security that hid the Commission from prying eyes.

"We can talk freely anywhere in here. There's a little courtyard garden. It's kinda nice."

"Okay," Sheilagh said.

The courtyard garden had tulips in bloom, in several different shades. A Ferengi was tending to them, and he waved in greeting.

They sat down on one of two curving stone benches that defined a little space. There was a steel and glass monument in the center, and it said _Tempus Fugit_ in its center. A name, _Eskon_ , was engraved on one side of it.

"What, uh, what does that mean?" Sheilagh asked.

"It means _Time Flies_. And, uh, on the side there, that's the name of a Cardassian who died during a mission. Fortunately, it's the only name on the monument."

"That's good," she said, "Definitely answers one of my questions. So, um, tell me. Are you an Augment?"

"It's like this," he said, "About a millennium ago, more actually, as you are well aware, Augments were first developed, and that led to the Eugenics Wars. This was, heh, bad mojo all around, which is the understatement of the decade. Then they reared their heads again around a hundred and fifty years after that – their leader was a guy named Malik – and then maybe eighty years after that there were the _Botany Bay_ and Khan Noonien Singh."

"You're not telling me anything I don't already know."

"Right. Well, the Temporal Integrity Commission started up in 2804 and it almost immediately became problematic that we've got all this technology. The first Temporal Agents, they went out with Communicators, tricorders – uh, we're back to calling them PADDs these days, phasers and Transporter remote controls. It was a lotta stuff to keep track of."

"I'll bet."

"And people would lose stuff. So the first idea was to consolidate all the tech. That didn't work so well for two reasons, namely, all the complicated circuitry would break down a lot more frequently. Plus, it made the devices dandy targets for thieves. The Commission needed a better way."

"I see."

"The first idea they hit upon was to do the Communicator implant. That was a truly amazing breakthrough, and it's still used."

"How do you get used to that thing?"

"It's light. And you just, I dunno, it's like you get used to anything, I suppose."

"Oh. Thanks."

"The rest of it was tougher to do, so the Commission started to look into the older medical research on, as you surmised, Augments. It was becoming readily apparent that keeping Agents out of ancient medical facilities, prisons and POW camps was a necessity. They needed people who could do things like run faster, and hear better. They needed for us to be able to survive all sorts of assaults. We had to be, well, better versions of ourselves."

"Like the blood trick you showed me."

"Right. That's a stem cell growth accelerator. The way it works is that my immune system is kinda in overdrive. It goes after any problem, and fast. You saw how quickly it closed up a small wound."

"Can it, uh, I know this is a disgusting question but, can it fix an amputation?"

"Yes. But there's, well, there's more going on with that. I'll tell you that part in a minute. It, uh, also, if I get a virus, or a bacterial infection, it attacks it quickly. I get infected, for sure, and I'm even contagious, but I heal up fast. Cancer, HIV, smallpox, you name it. It's only really fast-moving, devastating illnesses that can get me."

"Like what?"

"Hemorrhagic fevers and the like. But it all comes with a price."

"Which is?" she swallowed a little.

"I get all of the pain, but it's compressed into a far shorter time period."

"No wonder you cringed at the diner. You looked like you were about ready to pass out."

"Yep. Paper cuts are horrible, lemme tell ya."

"I guess they would be."

"So there's that. But there's also – you mentioned amputations. Well, that's rather tricky. Before the accelerator was developed, the Commission sent an Agent to medieval England. The guy had his hand cut off because he lost his trial for petty theft."

"God."

"He came back, and he was fixed up with a prosthesis, of course. Good to go, right? Well, no, not really. 'Cause what happens if the prosthesis is cut off, or the fake skin is opened up, and wiring is exposed? It's one huge temporal contamination issue, just waiting to happen."

"Your body regrowing a limb would do that too, though, right?"

"If you were caught in the act, then, yeah. But the chances are a bit less. It's still a better system. If I lose a thumb in private, the entire mission doesn't have to be scrapped."

"True."

The Ferengi came over, "Which do you prefer, yellow or peach?" he asked Sheilagh.

"Uh, Von, this is Sheilagh Bernstein. She's thinking of taking a job with us," Rick explained.

"Rick is a rascal. Only listen to one-tenth of what he says."

"Which tenth?" she asked.

"No one knows, and you're not allowed to ask," said Von, "So, yellow or peach?"

"Uh, yellow, I guess."

He went to the tulips and clipped a yellow one for her, which he presented with a flourish, " _Putting two beautiful things together is most profitable_."

"Yes, but doesn't _latinum last longer than lust_?" Rick asked, "Uh, _Rule of Acquisition Number 229_ , if I'm not mistaken."

"I get the feeling Rick isn't the only rascal around here," she said, smiling, "Thank you."

"My pleasure. I hope you join us," he went back to the tulips.

"The Temporal Integrity Commission has a gardener?" she asked.

"He does that for fun. He's actually an engineer," Rick said, "Anyway, uh, body parts. The Commission knew that we Agents had to be faster, stronger, that kind of thing, but not too obvious about it. We had to be smarter, have better eyesight and all of that, but not stand out too much."

"I take it the accelerator doesn't do that."

He shook his head, "I've got implants."

"Where?"

"Lots of places. Every fingertip, the bottoms of both feet and in my head, in a few places."

"What do they do?"

"The ones in my feet give me padding mainly, and traction. It's not exactly like wearing running shoes all the time, but it's close. They also keep the interior a bit more intact. There are infections and parasites that you can get through your feet. The implants keep them out. Of course the accelerator ultimately cures that, but they're unpleasant so it's kinda nice to not have to deal with them at all. I don't really run faster with the foot padding, but the impact on my knees is less. I don't get so much shock. I definitely have better endurance."

"That's good."

"They saved my bacon when I was on the AD 79 mission to Pompeii. The uh, the fingertip implants are a lot more sophisticated. I can gather some simple data with them – chemical analysis, that sort of thing – and even patch that into a computer, on the _Wells_ or here at headquarters."

"Wow."

"They can also be used to keep me from leaving behind latent fingerprints. Or, if I have to leave a fingerprint, like, let's say I was being arrested in 1902 London, well, I can do so, and even change the print if I need to."

"Nice," she said, twirling the tulip in her hands.

"Then there's what I've got up here," he said, tapping his right temple, "I've got implants in both ear canals, which give me the ability to hear farther up and down, beyond the range of normal human hearing. I can also differentiate tones and voices, and can hear faint sounds, too."

"Can you play music?"

"Not a note," he smiled, "It doesn't give me any abilities in that area. That's why we're probably going to hire the music guy, HD Avery."

"Oh, yeah. I think I remember him. Scraggly beard, right?"

"Dunno. I didn't look at his picture," Rick had only looked at the photographs of the female job candidates, "I also have implants in both optic nerves, so I can see UV and infrared, and I can see farther than just about anyone. I can see detail work, too. I'm no artist, it's not like that, but I can see differentiation, in a way that most people can't."

"Like the petals in this tulip, you can see variants."

"Well, you can see them, too. But I can also detect the color as it transitions from one end of any given petal to its other end. It's a tiny bit more orangey here, near the pistils. Can you see that?"

"I can't," she admitted, "It just looks like a fairly uniform shade of yellow to me."

"I've also got some cerebral implants, mainly to enhance my memory. I still need a PADD for some things, and I keep one with me, but I've also got a photographic memory, and an associative intelligence. I can, well; I can put ideas together in all sorts of ways."

"So you improvise."

"Right. I wonder if I could do stand up. All of this generally keeps me from having to bring a PADD with me on missions, so I don't have that to lose. I do bring a phaser, though, and a Transporter remote control. I also sometimes bring a thing called a Departiculating Handgrip. It makes it so I can walk through walls. It's convenient but unnerving."

"I can see where that would be."

"Sheilagh, I didn't have a photographic memory before I got the implants."

"Interesting."

"Yeah. It's not, I mean, it's not like I was dumb before. But I've zoomed so far ahead of what I was; it's as if that was some other person. Know what I mean?"

"I think so."

"See, it kinda mops me up if things really go haywire."

"Maybe this question is outta left field, but, uh, would I be expected to, um, sleep with people I didn't like in order to accomplish these missions?"

He thought for a moment, "Not expected, no. But you do need to get the missions done. So it might happen."

"That makes me kinda uncomfortable."

"I think it probably _should_. You also, uh, you might meet people who you like, you know. That does sometimes happen," Lucretia Crossman. Betty Tyler. Empress Hoshi Sato. Phillipa Green. And more. It had happened, for him, more than once or twice.

"But these are people you'll never see again."

"True," he said, "We aren't, uh, please don't take this the wrong way, but one of the reasons I was chosen to do this is because I'm no matinee idol. No offense, but the job isn't for the super-beautiful. It helps for us to be able to better blend in. I'm not saying you won't have offers or anything. But the idea is, well, for us to not be irresistible. Please, uh, don't take that as an insult. You are an attractive woman. But a real stunner would never be offered this job."

"Hmm. I, uh, can you show me where Carmen's office is?"

"Of course," he walked her there. Carmen was in, so he left her there.

"Well, what do you think?" Carmen asked, as soon as her office door closed.

"I think I'm in."

"Good," Carmen said, "Richard will train you, as soon as you've had your surgeries."

"Yes, he explained those."

"That was good of him. Welcome to the team."

"Thanks. I, uh, I guess things are gonna change for me," Sheilagh said.

"They'll be changes for the better, I trust."

=/\=

 _Tin soldiers and Nixon coming,  
we're finally on our own.  
This summer I hear the drumming.  
Four dead in Ohio._

\- Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young (Ohio)


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

 _A goddess on a mountain top_

 _Was burning like a silver flame,_

 _The summit of beauty and love,_

 _And Venus was her name._

 _She's got it,_

 _Yeah, baby, she's got it._

 _Well, I'm your Venus,_

 _I'm your fire at your desire._

 _Well, I'm your Venus,_

 _I'm your fire at your desire._

\- Shocking Blue (Venus)

=/\=

Carmen had already hired the Quartermaster candidate, Crystal Sherwood, and had contacted two of the other candidates. To her delight, they had both agreed to take a job with the Temporal Integrity Commission – Marisol Castillo and Thomas Grant. So far, so good.

Marisol was a particularly great find, so she was brought in very quickly. Her perceptiveness would dovetail well with that of a current employee, the half-Witannen, Otra. Marisol would be a traveling doctor, plus she had a modicum of Otra's unique gift for seeing many possible temporal alternatives at once.

It was good to have a backup, and now Otra would also be able to take a break on occasion. Otra, whose other half was human, wasn't allowed to travel to older Earth or Terra to go on missions. But Marisol was over 75% human, so she could.

And her medical training was going to really come in handy. There was a doctor they shared with the other departments, Boris Yarin. Boris conducted Marisol's augmentation surgeries as soon as he could. She had recovered, and now could assist him with Grant and Bernstein's augmentations.

Except for the brain surgery, everything was outpatient, and fairly fast. Sheilagh found the addition of the foot pads to be particularly convenient – quite literally, she had more of a spring in her step.

She spent a little time with Tom, as they were both new, and they had the medical workups in common. He was a military man, fairly stiff in his bearing, maybe eight years younger than she. He was very reserved, as if he was watching everything, unsure of how to proceed, but masking his uncertainly fairly effectively. They engaged in small talk, nothing more.

But neither of them saw Marisol very much. She either kept to herself or spent time with Boris, and they seemed to be continually arguing or maybe just discussing the myriad of procedures to be performed.

The day before Sheilagh and Tom's scheduled brain surgeries, Marisol caught up with Boris, "Doctor Yarin, may I see you for a moment? I have some questions about tomorrow's procedures."

"Of course you may, Doctor Castillo. Step into my office, please," he escorted her in there and shut the door.

She smiled at him and grabbed at him, "How much time do you think we've got?"

"Not enough time to really do things right," he said, kissing her neck, "Unless we, uh, you'll need to keep most of your things on."

"I can do that," she breathed, loud, in his ear, "Just try not to sweat on me too much."

"I'll do my best, but you are _so_ hot," he reached under her blouse.

She unfastened his pants. The door chimed. There was no time to do anything but hide. He refastened his pants and she got under his desk.

"Ah, Carmen, what can I do for you?"

"Is Doctor Castillo up to speed for the procedures that need to be performed tomorrow?"

"Yes, I was, uh, hoping to further debrief her."

"Ah, good. Boris, you look a little flushed. Are you catching a cold?"

"If I have one, it'll be a sneezing fit for maybe five minutes," he said, "Stem cell growth accelerator is a wonderful thing."

"No doubt. You'll borrow another Commission doctor if you need to? I just fear I may have given you more than you can handle."

"It will be my pleasure to handle such things. We will be fine," he assured her, and absently sat down at his desk. Marisol was still under there, and she started to massage the insides of his thighs.

"I'm sure you will," Carmen said, "And you'll tell me if anything comes up?"

"You'll, uh, you'll be the first to know," he managed to squeak out before she left.

Door again closed, and fully aroused again, he pulled Marisol up and bent her over the desk, facing away from him, her skirt flipping a bit as he held her breasts and licked and bit her neck and they moved together.

When they were done, she turned around to face him, "We were almost caught that time," he said.

"But we weren't," she said, "It's fun when it's dangerous like that."

"Still, I don't want anyone telling my wife anything, you know," he said.

"Don't worry; it degrades your performance."

=/\=

The following day's procedures were scheduled for the early morning. Both patients had fully shaved heads, and saw each other briefly before things got started.

"You scared?" Sheilagh asked, "Wait, I bet you're never scared."

"You kiddin'? I'm terrified," he drawled, his accent betraying an origin on Titania. It was the first really big thing he'd ever admitted to her, or to any of them, for that matter, "But don't tell anyone, all right?"

"Good. I mean, uh, not that you're scared. Just, that I'm not the only one," she said.

"Hey Sheilagh, maybe we'll dream while we're under," he said.

"Nothing too spicy," Marisol said, coming in to check on them before scrubbing up, "Ah, I see you're both ready," she gestured toward her own head. Her hair had already been restored.

"I hope this is the last time we have the same hairstyle," Sheilagh said to Tom.

"Who's goin' first?" he asked.

"You are, sir," Marisol said, "And it's time for your hypo. So relax and think of happy things," she injected him and he was quickly under.

"And me?" Sheilagh asked.

"Take a little nap or something. It'll all happen soon enough. Have patience."

Carmen came to visit Sheilagh while Marisol and Boris worked on Tom, "How are you feeling?"

"A bit concerned," Sheilagh admitted.

"Every time these procedures are done, they get easier, and the surgeons get better. And if, for any reason, it takes too long with Tom today, they'll take care of you tomorrow."

"But he'll be all right, yes?"

"Absolutely. There's no reason to think it'll turn out any other way. Marisol is perfectly fine, you just saw her."

"It seems like a lot of work for time travel."

"You're doing the right thing," Carmen said.

=/\=

 _Her weapons were her crystal eyes_

 _Making ev'ry man mad;_

 _Black as a dark night she was,_

 _Got what no one else had._

 _Wow!_

\- Shocking Blue (Venus)


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

 _She's got it,_

 _Yeah, baby, she's got it._

 _Well, I'm your Venus,_

 _I'm your fire at your desire._

 _Well, I'm your Venus,_

 _I'm your fire at your desire._

 _Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!_

 _Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!_

\- Shocking Blue (Venus) 

=/\=

Rick wasn't a part of any of that, so he instead went to see the department's engineers. Kevin O'Connor and Deirdre Katzman were banging away at one of the time ships, the _Jack Finney_.

"Now, hold that wrench in place," Deirdre was saying, "Just, just hang there for like a minute."

"Entertain me," Kevin said, holding the wrench, "Uh, please. Tell me who Jack Finney was again."

"He wrote _Time and Again_. This man, Simon Morley, engages in a secret government plot to get Grover Cleveland to buy Cuba so that the United States never has to deal with Castro. Time travel is achieved through a kind of a trancelike state, plus ole Si falls in love with the landlord's daughter, Julia."

"Sounds silly."

"It was very romantic," she said, "Okay, you can let go now," she looked up, "Oh, hiya, Rick. Something we can do for you?"

"Nothing in particular. Is the _HG Wells_ in working order?" he asked.

"Ask Levi. We've been on the _Jack_ for a while. Is, uh, anything the matter with it?" she asked.

"I don't think so. Just want it to be good. I gotta train the new girl, don't want anything going kerflooey during that."

"Better safe 'n sorry. Okay, Deirdre, let's see if the injector's workin' now. Gotta go – time ships wait for no man."

=/\=

Rick found Levi in his office.

Levi didn't look up – he was engrossed in something on his PADD.

"Uh, Levi?"

"Oh, yeah, uh, come in, I guess."

"What are you doing?" asked Rick.

"Decrypting. You remember, we got a note, a, a manifesto from whoever stole the _Audrey Niffenegger_?"

Ah, yes, Rick remembered – the older time ship. Someone had grabbed it about a month previously, and had messed with 1959, just before he had taken some time off. He had had to fix that, "Yeah, I remember."

"We got the title – it's not very imaginative. It's just called _Manifesto_. And we deciphered the first sentence, which I guess is the premise: _There is much wrong with history_. There are another four paragraphs that are longer, and we haven't been able to crack those yet. It's very annoying."

"I'm sure. Uh, is the _Wells_ in good working order?"

"It should be," Levi said, "What, you break something on it when you went to Clear Lake?"

"Uh, no. The 1959 Iowa trip went off without a hitch."

"So don't worry; it's fine."

"I just want things to go smoothly. I'm gonna take it to train the new girl."

"Oh? Going anywhere interesting?" it was Otra.

"1970, I figure. There's a shooting at Kent State."

"Why would you wanna train the new girl on something like that?" asked Levi, "Uh, hi, Otra."

"Baptism by fire, right?" she asked. She had flower-like appendages in lieu of hair, called chavecoi, and they waved and swayed, completely independently of the rest of her. It was a little unnerving to watch, if you weren't used to it.

"A bit," Rick said, "Plus it should be an education, to see the Pre-Warp Era. I know she's never been there – people who head to Pre-Warp for the first time are always shocked that anyone got anything done, what with the slow transportation, the constant striving for money and the lousy, bureaucratic medical care."

"I wish I could go with you," Otra said, "I don't imagine I'll ever be able to visit my father's past."

"Ah, your human side," Rick said, "Have you ever gone to your Witannen past?"

"Once, to the 2150s, when there was first contact with a lot of Alpha Quadrant species – humans included. The encounter was a less than positive one. A number of species were rounded up, to play war games on Andromeda for the Zetal."

There wasn't a lot of trade or communications between the Milky Way and the Andromeda galaxies yet, but the ties were getting closer all the time. After such an inauspicious beginning, the Zetal, a non-humanoid species, as well as the Witannen themselves were warming up to humans and others. The Witannen had even, recently, joined the Federation.

"Strange how such things were important to our ancestors, eh?" asked Rick.

"Uh, is there a reason why you're in my office?" Levi asked.

"The _Wells_?" Rick prompted.

"What about – oh, yes," Levi said, "It's probably fine, unless you banged it up like you did with _Audrey_ ," The _Audrey Niffenegger_ , the oldest of the time ships, had been positively manhandled by Rick during the previous eight-plus years.

"Like I said, I just want to make sure it's all right," Rick insisted.

"I don't think –" Levi said.

"Levi, why don't you do a Level One diagnostic?" Otra suggested.

"Um, yeah, okay," he said, "Maybe that's a good idea."

=/\=

Mrs. Marci Cavendish's baby boy Levi was such a pain in the posterior that his father walked out when Levi was but three years old. Zach Cavendish had been a military commander, and had been looking forward to a child to follow in his footsteps, a leader, an athlete and a hero in the making.

Instead, he was stuck with Levi.

Zach felt trapped, bogged down by a whiny, sickly child who, while a genius, was petulant, uncoordinated and rude to all comers. Levi was picked on by every other child he ever met. Such a professional victim was never going to be the manly heir that Zach craved. Zach almost thought the kid wasn't even his. And so, after only three years, Zach had walked.

With the abolishment of money, there was no need for financial child support. Instead, both parents, if living and competent – and not dangerous criminals – were expected to provide _emotional_ child support and sustenance. This was even true of an absentee parent such as Zach. Marci had taken him to court, and had won. And so Zach was obligated, until Levi turned thirty – a date that Zach had already booked as a holiday for himself, _May twelfth, 3114_ – to keep up with his son and even visit a few times per year. This Zach did begrudgingly, only performing the barest minimum of his requirements. Otherwise, he was never around, and could not be reached.

As for Levi's part, he didn't give a damn. So his father was gone – so what?! It wasn't like they'd had anything in common, ever.

His main influence, growing up, had been Marci, and she'd found religion and gone fundamentalist by the time he'd turned seven. It didn't even matter which religion – she was a fundie for any and all of them, handling snakes one week, practicing Methodist temperance another, wearing a hijab during a third, then performing Wiccan rituals and then back again, and then branching out into some other direction. She'd dabbled in Orthodox Judaism, Zen Buddhism, and New Age mysticism and even threw the _I Ching_ when it suited her.

Amidst all of this unsettled strife, Levi hadn't had a prayer of growing up normally. But even if his family life had been picture perfect – or at least this side of usual – he still would have failed the normalcy test miserably. He had multiple issues, including adult ADHD and Asperger's Syndrome.

He was hyper-focused on one issue at a time, which was why he was obsessed with the encrypted PADD message, even though encryption most certainly was _not_ his job. He was also somewhat obsessed with Otra, and she knew she was usually the only one who could make his attention jump tracks and change course.

=/\=

 _She's got it,_

 _Yeah, baby, she's got it._

 _Well, I'm your Venus,_

 _I'm your fire at your desire._

 _Well, I'm your Venus,_

 _I'm your fire at your desire._

\- Shocking Blue (Venus)

9


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

 _Instant Karma's gonna get you,_

 _Gonna knock you right on the head,_

 _You better get yourself together,_

 _Pretty soon you're gonna be dead,_

 _What in the world you thinking of,_

 _Laughing in the face of love,_

 _What on earth you tryin' to do,_

 _It's up to you, yeah you._

\- John Lennon (Instant Karma)

=/\=

Otra and Rick followed Levi out to where the _Wells_ was parked. In 3109, perhaps _parked_ wasn't the right word for a ship being made stationary when all it _wanted_ to do was move. _Tethered_ – that was a tad more accurate.

Levi began with just a cursory check, and was about ready to call it a day when Otra put a hand on his arm to stop him, "No, Levi, do the whole thing. _Please_."

He complied. He would do a lot for Otra, he was learning, even though that sometimes came into conflict with his obsessive singularity of purpose.

"I think the 1970 shooting is a fine idea for a training mission," Otra stated as she and Rick watched Levi work.

"I figure it could almost be a bit of fun to start – a campus in the 1960s, 1970s can be quite an experience – but I also like the idea of getting down to business almost immediately," Rick said, "I don't love watching people get killed, but we definitely deal with that."

"I bet that's a part of what that _Manifesto_ is all about," Otra mused, "I am assuming there is some sort of a group that's poised against us. It's almost easy for them; they could practically hold themselves up as paragons of virtue. We're the ones who let all of these good people – or, at least, innocent ones – die, while they oh so magnanimously save them."

"Yeah," Rick agreed, "I don't think I need to read their _Manifesto_ to know they're doing, and thinking, something like that. It's not so easy to be the bad guy all the time."

"I don't think you're the bad guy," she said.

"All set," Levi said, "Really, you can check my work if you don't believe me."

"That's okay. I trust you," Rick said, "And, thanks," But Levi didn't hear him – he'd already returned to the relative safety of his office, and the siren call of the as-yet uncracked encrypted PADD file.

=/\=

Tom Grant's operations went off without a hitch, and it was time for Sheilagh Bernstein. Marisol and Boris had surgical nurses helping them, plus they needed to keep focused and in a sterile environment. This was neither the time nor the place for hanky panky.

They had a few gadgets to implant. First, it was time for the optic nerve enhancements. These required the most delicate work. The cutting was done automatically and there was no need for a super-steady hand, but it did still require their fullest attentions.

They were the tiniest of devices, little discs that went behind the patient's own natural lenses. They were even sensitive to some chemicals which could be applied if there was any sort of a need to change the color of Sheilagh's eyes from their natural greyish-blue to brown or hazel or something else.

Next came the ear canal implants. These were a bit tricky to place although they were larger. This was because of the often Byzantine and odd configurations of patients' ear canals. The fit was to be absolutely perfect, and the implants could only go in one way. Boris had learned – even though he could technically do these last – it was best to take care of them a bit earlier, as he'd have more patience for all of the necessary fiddling and adjusting.

The left one, in this case, was particularly tricky, possibly that had something to do with the simultaneous implantation of the tiny Communicator into Sheilagh's ear. That one took about three times longer to place than the right one.

Finally, it was time for the cerebral enhancements. This kind of augmentation was also slow work. Cut, place, adjust, cauterize, over and over again. Generally, these augmentations were to enhance memory, plus they worked in tandem with the ocular and auditory placements. There was also a homing device built in – in the event of brain death, the subject would be brought back to Headquarters automatically.

Agents still needed PADDs for large amounts of data – the technology had been tricorders for a long time, but it was smaller and lighter now, so the name had reverted back to PADD. They needed phasers to stun or kill if necessary. They needed Transporter remote controls and implanted Communicators for obvious reasons. But mainly, with the enhanced pieces being implanted and switched on, Agents could get along in almost any time or place with few needs, dangers or encumbrances. They weren't perfect, but they were more than good enough for time travel.

=/\=

For their parts, Sheilagh and Tom dreamt during the procedures. It was hard not to, as their brains were being jiggered in every which way.

Tom settled into his usual dream, which involved saving some sort of damsel in distress or another. His subconscious mind selected Carol Tilson, who had been interviewing for a Temporal Agent position at the same time he had been.

He had barely spoken three words to her, yet there she was, her hair streaked with copper and her skin the color of coffee with a little half and half. Not a latte – more like a cappuccino.

 _They were in a jungle, surrounded by dangerous wild animals, some from Earth, others from Kronos or Lafa XII or Bajor. They were then running, being chased, and then swinging from vines, in a rather Tarzanesque vein._

 _He was saving her, she was kissing him on the cheek in appreciation – and perhaps as a prelude to more – and then she was falling, and he was somehow obligated to_ let _her fall._

 _He heard, rather than saw, the impact, and could not believe what he had let happen._

He shook himself awake – no mean feat as he was still recovering from the effects of the general anesthesia. He sat up and was smacked with the worst headache of his life.

=/\=

Sheilagh dreamt of a fashion show.

 _It was anything and everything – loincloths and Neanderthalers' attire, uniforms from the old_ _NX-01_ _, present-day paneled skirts – you name it._

 _The models flitted by, strutting on the catwalk. The creations were tempting, but all out of reach._

 _It changed, as she suddenly felt hopelessly out of step and out of fashion, behind the times no matter what she did._

She, too, awoke with a splitting headache.

=/\=

 _Instant Karma's gonna get you,_

 _Gonna look you right in the face,_

 _Better get yourself together darlin',_

 _Join the human race,_

 _How in the world you gonna see,_

 _Laughin' at fools like me,_

 _Who on earth d'you think you are,_

 _A super star,_

 _Well, right you are._

 _Well we all shine on,_

 _Like the moon and the stars and the sun,_

 _Well we all shine on,_

 _Everyone come on._ _  
_

\- John Lennon (Instant Karma)


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

 _Instant Karma's gonna get you,_

 _Gonna knock you off your feet,_

 _Better recognize your brothers,_

 _Everyone you meet,_

 _Why in the world are we here,_

 _Surely not to live in pain and fear,_

 _Why on earth are you there?_

 _When you're everywhere,_

 _Come and get your share._

\- John Lennon (Instant Karma) 

=/\=

"How you feelin'?" It was Kevin, come to check up on Tom.

"I've had better days."

"Yeah, you're gettin' used to the stem cell growth accelerator, right?"

"Yeah. Ow. I feel nauseous."

Boris came in, "Not too much so soon. Don't try to sit up," he injected Tom with an analgesic.

"What did you do to me?" Tom asked.

"Lots of secret things," Boris said, "Kevin, you need to let him rest."

"Uh, sure. Tomorrow, we'll take _Jack_ out for a spin," he said to Tom.

"Who?"

" _Jack_ is a what, not a who. The _Jack Finney_ – it's a time ship. I got it souped up and need to test it out anyway. Eugenics Wars, start of World War Three okay for you?"

"Uh, I guess so," Tom said, and he was out again.

=/\=

"Sheilagh? Sheilagh? You have a visitor," Marisol said.

"We're going to 1970 tomorrow," Rick said.

"My hair …," she said absently.

"Crystal can take care of that," Rick said.

"Yeah, look at me. I was as bald as you, not two days ago," Marisol assured her.

"Oh, okay," she, too, was then back under.

Marisol led Rick out of the recovery room, "You're the one who brought in the new Quartermaster?"

"Yeah, she was, she used to cut my hair," he said.

"She's pretty good. I guess you'll see how well she does with clothing tomorrow, eh?"

"I guess we will. You going out for a spin at some point?"

"I think in the _Audrey_. I guess Boris would take me?"

"He doesn't travel, and Otra's not allowed to travel to the deep human past. You might find yourself enjoying Levi's company."

"It'll be a joy, I'm sure," she said.

=/\=

Rick went to his own office, a small room with little decoration, save for an occasional tiny temporal souvenir. There was a Comm badge from the Enterprise-E, a sash that had belonged to Empress Hoshi Sato, one of Lucretia Crossman's plain linen handkerchiefs – it was those sorts of things.

He engaged his implanted communicator and called his sister, "El," he said, "I'm off again tomorrow, staying here tonight."

"Ah, okay," Eleanor Daniels said, "Have you told Mom and Dad yet?"

"Nope. I'm not even so sure that they've even miss me."

"Oh, you were treated to the _Steve and Chloe Show_?"

"Please, it's the _Steve_ _ **n**_ _and Chloe Show_ ," he said, smiling, "They're like teenagers. Were they like this when we were growing up?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, "I used to hear them at times. Consider yourself lucky, your room was on the other side of the house."

"But the guest room isn't. My old room is an office – yours is for exercise now."

"I know, I know, it's weird to see that."

"They do put on music," Rick said, "I know when the music starts, it's time for me to either go out or find something really interesting to look at in the office," he said.

"I was living there a few years ago when my apartment building was being renovated, you remember? And Dad went away for maybe two days on business, to Rigel IX," she said

"Oh, yeah."

"Mom was beside herself. It makes me wonder what'll happen when, you know, when they're really apart."

"Well, hopefully that won't be for a long time," he said, "Will either of us ever be in love like _that_?"

"I don't know."

"I'm thinking it must be rare," he said.

"At this point, I'd settle for _deep like_ ," she said, "I, uh, I heard from Tina," Tina April, a friend of Eleanor's, was Rick's most recent ex.

"Oh?"

"I told her if she wanted to say bad things about you, that she could."

He smiled, "So, does she hate me?"

"I don't know about that. She seemed more disappointed than anything else, that things didn't go the way they were supposed to – at least, according to her way of thinking."

"Probably a good thing I stopped it when I did, eh?"

"Probably," she allowed, "She's going back out there, you know. Are you?"

"Well, I've got a mission," He said, "coming up soon."

"I know enough about your missions to know you often find comfort out there," she said, "But those are quick. What about here?"

"Tina's not telling you to ask me that, right?"

"No, this is just me being a nosy sister."

"Ah, well, no, I haven't pursued anyone here," _Not yet_.

"Tell me when you fall in _deep like_ _,_ all right?" she chuckled, "And, uh, you'd better tell Mom you're off again. This is a safe mission, right?"

"It's training, actually," he said, "So it's just observational."

"Good," she said, voice brightening, "Enjoy."

They closed the connection, and he called their parents. Sure enough, he was _obviously_ interrupting something, although Steven and Chloe Daniels denied it. He let them go quickly. He knew they hadn't settled for _deep like_.

He pulled out the jewelry he wore, two items on a chain around his neck. One was a nearly-millennium-old mock skeleton key, with a solid handle. There was a tiny clasp. He put his pinkie nail into it and it opened. He read the inscription aloud to himself:

 _Whene'er you feel you you are in need_

 _Remember the Lili-Flower_

 _is supported by the Reed_

He knew that the couplet referred to Malcolm and Lili Reed, his and Eleanor's ancestors. Those people hadn't settled for _deep like_ , either.

=/\=

The next morning, Rick came in to collect Sheilagh, "Headache any better?" he asked, by way of greeting.

"Much. God, it was terrible. Doctor Yarin must have shot me thirty times overnight!"

"Well, I don't know about that," Rick said, "Those last few times were probably just placebos. I know that's what they did with me."

"How do you get used to it?"

"I dunno – the way you get used to anything. I was on a mission and was helping to prepare dinner and cut my hand with a French knife. I about died."

"Were you distracted?"

"There were a lot of people, and there were little kids running in and out of the kitchen," he explained.

"So this was a private house?"

"Yep. You'll go to all sorts of places. Think you're up for the cafeteria?"

"Only if I can get my hairstyle fixed," she was still completely bald.

"Please, you could blend in with the Calafan contingent," he said. She made a face at him, so he added, "I am part that. So no slamming the Calafans."

"I didn't mean any disrespect."

"I'm sure you didn't. A lot of the people here are hybrids. Kevin's part Gorn, Boris has Klingon in him, and you know about Otra."

"What about Carmen?"

"Pure or almost pure human," he said, "I don't know about the others who were hired at about the same time as you were. Anyway, uh, hair. We'll go visit Crystal first, and get you all squared away."

Crystal met them at her workspace, "All right, let's get you set up. Sit here, please."

Sheilagh sat down, and Crystal grabbed a bottle of a brownish mixture. Using a tool that looked like a plastic frosting spreader, she applied the mixture – which had the consistency of vegemite – to Sheilagh's head.

"So, what year are you off to?" Crystal asked.

"1970," Rick replied.

"Specifics?" Crystal inquired.

"It's a Midwestern college campus," he stated.

"Hmm," she checked a PADD, "Oops, better stop your hair growth," she said to Sheilagh. Crystal grabbed a bottle of water and doused the other woman with it.

"Whadja do that for?" Sheilagh demanded.

"That stops the growth. Otherwise, we're calling you Rapunzel. And, sorry. Here, let's get you dried off," she switched on a hand-held hair dryer and the job was done quickly, "Okay, now, you're good and straight already. Just a few, let's get you all evened out," A few snips and she was done.

Sheilagh looked at herself in a hand mirror Crystal had provided, "I look a bit old for this."

"Huh, mutton dressed a bit like lamb. A moment," she took a jar of gel out from a drawer, "Sit still and let me, ah, that's good," A few dabs of gel around the eyes and mouth, and Sheilagh looked a good twenty-five years younger than her real age, which was forty-six.

"They should sell that stuff by the case," she said, "I look like I'm in college again."

"They do sell this by the case – but only to movie stars and the like. And, let's think about clothing. How do you feel about wearing a miniskirt?"

"Really?"

"Sure," Rick said. From his vantage point, it was all good.

"My thighs are a little chunky for them," Sheilagh complained.

"Not to worry – your body type will work with the time period," Crystal programmed the replicator and it spat out a black mini and a creamy white peasant top with a bit of blue embroidery. She punched a few more keys and out came black flats, "Now let's do makeup," A bit of blue eye shadow worked, with some dark mascara and a bit of blusher, "Here, take these with you. Oh! You'll need a purse," Another bit of programming, and out came an unstructured denim bag.

"Should I put these on now?" Sheilagh asked.

"Sure, why not?" Crystal said, "You can change in there," Sheilagh left to do that, "And now for you, Mister," she said to Rick.

"Oh?"

"Preppie look. So, chinos, corduroy jacket, light blue button-down shirt. Penny loafers, too, those should work."

"I wore those on my feet in '59."

"It's a classic style. You need longer hair, too. Prepare to get doused," Crystal said. She spread, doused and then clipped his locks, "Okay, that's good. A bit below the ears but not too much, and a bit of sideburns going on but not overdone. Here, let's gel you up, take off a few years – grad student age, I'm thinking. You can say you're getting your Master's in something or other. Ah, wait, dammit, you need a flare leg on the chinos," she went back to the replicator and reprogrammed it.

"You're enjoying this," he said.

"Like you wouldn't believe. It's fun – you're all my own personal paper dolls. Now, go try 'em on," she said, "Sheilagh! Look at you! A regular Peggy Lipton!"

"Who?"

"It's good, trust me. Do you need heavy jackets?" Crystal asked.

"I don't know. Rick, do we need heavy jackets?" Sheilagh called.

"It'll be in May. So, uh, probably not," he emerged.

"Huh. I hate the corduroy," Crystal complained, "Let's get you denim," she hit a few keys and he had a different jacket, "Ah, there you go."

=/\=

 _Well we all shine on,_

 _Like the moon and the stars and the sun,_

 _Yeah we all shine on,_

 _Come on and on and on, on, on,_

 _Yeah, yeah, all right, uh huh, ah._

 _Well we all shine on,_

 _Like the moon and the stars and the sun,_

 _Yeah we all shine on,_

 _On and on and on, on and on._

\- John Lennon (Instant Karma)

14


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

 _Well we all shine on,_

 _Like the moon and the stars and the sun._

 _Well we all shine on,_

 _Like the moon and the stars and the sun._

 _Well we all shine on,_

 _Like the moon and the stars and the sun._

 _Yeah we all shine on,_

 _Like the moon and the stars and the sun._

\- John Lennon (Instant Karma)

=/\=

Carmen was about all set to just send Marisol off on a training run alone with Levi when she thought better of it. Levi was no traveler – neither was Kevin, although at least the part-reptile was equipped to mentally and emotionally handle a trip into the past. But Levi? Not so much.

She collected Marisol and the two of them went into Levi's office where he was, again, engrossed in decryption, "How soon can you get _Fluxy_ up and running?" Carmen asked.

"The _Flux Capacitor_? I dunno, a month, if I have to do it alone."

"All right, that won't do. The _Wells_ and the _Jack_ are spoken for," Carmen said.

"What about _Audrey_?" Levi asked.

"That's the older technology, right?" asked Marisol.

"Right. So we won't do technical training. Plus I think Sheilagh will get _Fluxy_. We'll either give you the _Audrey II_ when she's done or another time ship will be built," Carmen said, "We've got time portals; they're generally fine if you're going solo, and staying within our own universe."

"I, uh …" Levi began.

"You won't have to go to the surface if you don't want to, Levi," said Carmen, seeing him eye the all-important PADD again.

"Oh, uh, okay. When and where are we going?"

"We're off to the twenty-centimeter radiation band universe, also known as the mirror," Carmen said, "2267 – We're going to watch the first big crossover unfold, when Captain Kirk of the old _NCC-1701_ and a few of his senior officers ended up there."

"How?" Marisol asked.

"It was a Transporter malfunction due to an ion storm."

"Empress Hoshi Sato's time period?" asked Marisol.

"No, it's a bit after her death. Her great-grandson is in power – Emperor Charles the first. The _ISS Enterprise NCC-1701_ is loaded with women – Charles likes the ladies – so we'll pass with no problems once we're properly attired."

=/\=

Kevin and Tom were inside the _Jack Finney_ , "All right," Kevin said, "show me how you fire a pulse shot."

"Adjust this first," Tom said, turning a dial, "and then punch in the coordinates. Then you fire up the collector to grab some dark matter, and hit this," he indicated a lever, "And you're good to go."

"And why do you wanna fire a dark matter pulse shot?" Kevin asked, quizzing him.

"It opens up a portal between the two universes by creating a localized instability in the radiation bands. Twenty and twenty-one centimeters meet, and the pore between the mirror and here begins to open up."

"How do you make it open up faster?"

"Another pulse shot."

"Good. And how do you close it?"

"Reverse the stream and fire again," Tom said, "Are we goin' to the mirror today?"

"Nope, but you gotta know this anyway," Kevin said.

"Why do we take ships anyway?" Tom asked, "Can't we just use time portals?"

"A few reasons – one, just as we've been discussing, if you need to go to the other side of the pond, you gotta fire a pulse shot first. Two, if we need to get a lotta people or equipment rolling at once, a ship is actually faster."

"How's that possible?"

"Every time someone goes through, there have to be a whole host of temporal and spatial calculations performed. Sending it all at once is easier, and faster, and usually more accurate. If you run a time portal over and over again, you keep on recalculating, and there's a margin for error."

"And?"

"And if you wanna go to 2011 Boston you can end up in 2010 Madrid. And that's only with an error rate of maybe one-millionth of one percent."

"It's that strict?"

"It's gotta be." 

=/\=

"So, do you feel ready?" Rick asked Sheilagh as they breakfasted together in the cafeteria.

"I suppose so. The whole idea of doing this is so very odd. It feels impossible."

"Well, it's not. And you'll find out how very real it is, soon enough."

She looked around, "Rick, you're part Calafan, right?"

"Both sides of the pond," he said, rolling up his left sleeve a little to show the evidence, a coppery band of skin and a silvery band. The silvery band was closer to his wrist than the coppery one. He took a bite out of a sesame bagel.

"Do you know why they're all doing that?" she surreptitiously indicated a table where three Calafan women were sitting. One was coppery; the other two were silvery, and one of the silver ones had short silvery-blonde hair, whereas the other two were completely bald. They were flicking their fingers.

"Ah, that," he said, smiling, "They think someone is attractive."

"Huh?"

"It's kind of like a silent catcall. Frankly, they're pretty much always on the make."

The Calafan women were joined by a copper Calafan man – he also had hair – and the finger-flicking stopped, "Why'd they quit?" Sheilagh asked.

"Oh, that's Kaiwev. He's their supervisor – same rank and duties as Carmen."

"So the party stops, eh? How many species use this facility?"

"I don't know the exact number. But there are, let's see how many I can name off the top of my head – humans, Vulcans, Andorians, Aenar, Klingons, Romulans, Bajorans, Cardassians, Betazoids, all five Xindi species, Calafans from both here and the mirror universe, Tandarans, Takret, Tellarites, Suliban, Denobulans, Xyrillians, Trill, Breen, Gorn, Witannen, Imvari, Ferengi, uh, I'm missing someone, I'm sure."

"Wow. You said the Calafans are from both sides of the pond. What about other species?"

"Most do what we do – we come from here but go to both places. Calafans can't do that because of the physical differences. But even with other species, there are still a few mirror Agents. They're used when needed. But this is where the big facility is."

"Do you have a counterpart?" she asked.

"I do not. It's from both sides. On my mother's side, it goes back to the 2150s. There's an ancestor named Chandler Masterson. On this side, he marries a woman named Deborah Haddon, and they have a son named Ken. Ken has two kids – Kelly and Wesley. My mother's descended from Wesley."

"And over there?"

"It's tricky. Over there, Deb Haddon's killed before she gets a chance to have any kids, so Chandler instead marries a woman named Lucy Stone. This is during the time of Empress Hoshi Sato," he paused for a second. He had known her very well. _Intimately_ well. 

"Uh, you were saying?"

"Right. So, Chandler and Lucy, they end up on Lafa II actually, speaking of the Calafans. They still have a son named Ken but Ken marries a girl named Betsy Tucker. Now, you gotta know, there are also twins – Empress Hoshi's kids with Chandler."

"This is coming back to me now," Sheilagh said, "There were a bunch of royal kids, right?"

"Yep. And they've all got different fathers. When Chandler and Lucy go to Lafa II, they take the twins with them – a boy and a girl, Takeo and Takara."

"Go on."

"So Takara, she ends up with Betsy's brother, Charlie Tucker. He's, uh, the fourth. They have a son, Charles the fifth. Charlie number five ends up with Ken and Betsy's daughter, Denise. And it's their son, Charles the sixth, who eventually becomes the Terran Emperor Charles the first."

"So you're related to royalty."

"Not exactly. Remember Wesley Masterson, my mother's forebear? He never marries and never fathers any children. So my mother's line is shut down right there. And it wouldn't even be the same anyway as Wesley had a different mother on the other side of the pond."

"You mentioned," She said, "that your father's line was also extinguished."

"Nonexistent, yes," he said, "It's almost the same time period. We go to 2161 and my great-grand however many greats grandfather, Declan Reed is born. But he wasn't born on the other side of the pond because both of his parents were gone. His father was Malcolm Reed, and in the mirror, a few years before that he dies of injuries after fighting a Gorn."

She made a face.

"It gets better," he said, "He had a chance of surviving, but the doctor was bribed to make sure that he didn't. He was a nasty fellow on that side. I almost don't blame them."

"And his nonexistent wife?"

"Lili O'Day. On our side of the pond, Malcolm's her second husband, and Declan is her third child. But over there, Lili dies in a house fire when she's nine years old."

"So your line was just shut down ten ways 'til Sunday."

"Yeah. It's a wonder there are any true counterparts, actually. There are so many variables. So much of it turns on a dime. Do, uh, do you have one? I've been babbling long enough."

"Oh, yes!" she smiled, "I actually have a counterpart. She's, um, she's a government official over there."

"Would you ever want to meet her?"

"I dunno. I've been waffling about that for a while."

"I sometimes think that giving people a chance to meet their counterparts is a bad idea. But that option is available now, if someone wants to take it. I just think I'd be too weirded out by it all," he said, "Ready to go?"

"Yeah. Let's do this."

=/\=

 _Now that you're gone_

 _All that's left is a band of gold_

 _All that's left of the dream I hold_

 _Is a band of gold_

 _And the memories of what love could be_

 _If you are still here with me_

\- Freda Payne (Band of Gold)

12


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

 _You took me from the shelter of a mother I had never known_

 _Who loved any other?_

 _We kissed after taking vows_

 _But that night on our honeymoon_

 _We stayed in separate rooms_

\- Freda Payne (Band of Gold)

=/\=

The three time ships left at almost the same time. The _Audrey Niffenegger_ was the slowest but, fortunately, it had the least amount of temporal ground to cover, as Marisol, Carmen and Levi were going to 2267.

The women wore the uniforms of the period, for the Terran Empire – bold colors, short skirts, high boots and short tops that bared their midriffs. Carmen said, "Enough trips to the mirror universe, and I'll just move my home straight into the gym. My abs could be better."

"Oh, you're fine," Marisol assured her, "When do we fire the pulse shot?" she asked Levi.

"Huh? Oh, yeah," he looked up from his PADD, "It can really be any time," There was a display that showed the date. They were rounding 2914.

"What do we do while waiting?" Marisol asked.

"Read up on the mission or rest, I'd suggest," Carmen said, "Now, do you know what we're going to be witnessing?"

"The _Enterprise_ – the _NCC-1701_ – is in orbit over the Halkan home world. And, in the other universe, the _ISS Enterprise_ is in orbit over the Halkan home world's planetary counterpart. There's an ion storm, happening in both universes. While four people – Captain James Kirk, Chief Medical Officer Leonard McCoy, Lieutenant Commander Nyota Uhura and Commander and Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott – from our universe are attempting to transport from the surface to the _Enterprise_ , their counterparts on the other side of the pond are attempting to beam up from the surface of the planetary counterpart, and to the _ISS Enterprise_ ," Marisol took a breath, "This is the first human crossover since 2157, when Lieutenant Commander Douglas Hayes crossed over from the other side of the pond to here."

"Right," Carmen said, "And the Hayes incident was classified for a long time. The man changed his name to Beckett, married and settled in the Lafa System, and the people who knew what had happened – the crew of the old _NX-01_ and Admiral Black – were sworn to secrecy, with some rather uncomfortable consequences in store if they breached confidentiality. They didn't, so the transporting party in 2267 was in for quite a shock."

"I'll bet," Levi said, "Why is the mirror universe different?"

"Ah, the sixty-four thousand dollar question! Marisol, you should know this," Carmen said.

"Huh, oh yeah, I suppose I do," she said, "Sometime in, uh, maybe the time of the Roman Republic – is that right?" Carmen nodded. "Well, there was a genetic mutation and it became dominant. We call it the _Y Chromosome Skew_. It pushed a heavier dose of testosterone on both male and female developing fetuses. It also made the Y chromosome turn more genetically dominant, so mothers started having about three times as many sons as daughters. More boys, and more powerful boys, made for a societal shift in favor of warfare and violence, and hunting, versus peace, or art, or agriculture, even."

"The women aren't totally off the hook, though," Carmen said, "They also helped pull the society in that direction."

"True," Marisol said, "Mate selection favored more aggressive males, and they nearly always carried the mutation."

"Uh, why would the women want more aggressive men?" Levi asked.

"Well, they were usually considered to be better lovers, and they were, uh, apparently better-endowed," Marisol said.

"Oh," Levi gulped, "That's a fast mutation. Looks like we're past 2800."

=/\=

"Did you read up about the time period?" Kevin asked Tom as they sped past 2619 in the _Jack Finney_.

"Yes. 2026. The start of the Eugenics Wars, World War Three – it's partly a byproduct of the creation of the first Augments and a forerunner of the start of the _Terra Prime_ movement," Tom said.

"It's also when Phil Green decides to do his eco-terrorism bit, and wipe out thirty-seven million people. He's a real SOB, eh?"

"Oh yeah. The Colonel is bound and determined to improve the stock, as if we were cattle, rather than people."

"Yeah. A lotta innocent people – their only fault was that they had radiation sickness – they were killed, just to support his vision. _Idiot_ ," Kevin said, "I got choicer words for him, of course."

"As do I," Tom agreed, "Did he have any descendants?"

"Yeah, he did, actually. Eventually it all goes down to 2735, and Phillipa Green. Rick met her. She was – the mission was to observe who was helping Silik."

"Silik?"

"He was a Suliban, mid-twenty-second century. He got his instructions from his future – the temporal faction was unknown, so we just used to refer to that leader as _Future Guy_. His name was actually _Jim Horan._ And his helper – and girlfriend, I might add – was the Colonel's great-great-however many greats granddaughter."

"Huh. I remember from my history lessons that the Colonel was ripped apart – drawn and quartered by a mob."

"He was. Never mess with an angry, hungry mob," Kevin said, "For a guy so concerned with genetics, he passed his genes along the old-fashioned way. Ah, here we are in 2572."

"This seems fast."

" _Jack's_ a jack rabbit. We'll probably be done first – there's not much to watch. We'll hang in the back, watch as Green gives the order to drop the stolen nuke on Nigeria, watch the bomb drop on the view screen, and then we'll _amscray_."

"Do you think it was racially motivated, just all clothed in some sort of nonsense about genetics and all?"

"It wouldn't shock me," Kevin said, "It wouldn't be the first – nor will it be the last, I bet – time that someone did something like that and just used it as an excuse to get back at their enemies or take out some group they didn't like."

Tom absently scratched his neck, "These old uniforms are terrible."

"Tell me about it. Gawd, if they find out I'm not all human, they'll have my head, no matter if I'm wearin' their monkey suit," The uniform was militaristic and overly decorated – but the decorations were meaningless. Even Kevin ended up just looking rigid and mean.

"Your secret is safe with me," Tom said, "Hey, we're past 2450."

" _Jack_ the jack rabbit, like I said. It's a joy being in a ship this quick. _Audrey II_ should be even faster."

"Who's getting the _Jack_?"

"You," Kevin said, "Assuming Carmen's plans go, uh, as planned."

"Good. Can we, uh, request any modifications?" Tom asked.

"Sure, within reason. Rick's got his tricked out like, well, it's kinda like a bachelor pad."

"Oh?" Tom raised an eyebrow.

"Heh, yeah. I imagine – well, most of these missions are soloes – I imagine they can get a bit lonely."

"But still – I mean, it's not like he'd ever see any of these women again," Tom drawled, "I wasn't, uh, I wasn't raised that way."

"Me neither," Kevin replied, "Actually, I've met his parents, once, and his sister. Those aren't their, um, values. I dunno – don't want to cut the guy down as he's not here to defend himself. But, well, I guess it's a bit of how he made peace with things ethically."

"Ethically?"

"You do realize this is not an academic exercise, dontcha, Grant? I mean, you're gonna watch the Third World War start. And all you gotta do to stop it – _maybe_ – is kill Colonel Phillip Green. Hell, you might just have to smack him upside the head in order to stop the events from being set in motion."

"Huh. Yeah, I guess so," Tom admitted, "So we just let people die?"

"Yeah. Sad to say, but true. We let everything go, all in the name of protecting the original timeline."

"I suppose we have to. I can, uh, I can see where a guy who'd done this for a while could start to crack, I guess, and look for comfort anywhere he could conceivably get it."

"Maybe."

"This doesn't mean I will," Tom said, "I, uh, I don't wanna get quite so disenchanted."

"I don't think Rick _planned_ to become so disenchanted. Ah, we're past 2300 already."

"Jack rabbit indeed."

=/\=

Rick sat at the _Wells's_ piloting station. Sheilagh sat beside him, "Okay, what does this do?" he asked.

"You can, uh, fire a pulse shot."

"No, that's here," he said, indicating, "These are just the environmental controls. Uh, don't get them confused."

"Right. I don't want to be turning the heat up – or thinking I am – and instead opening up a window to the mirror universe."

"That could be a problem," he allowed, "Wanna see the rest of the ship?"

"Sure."

They got up, "Okay, replicator is here in the back. You can have a snack or change your clothes or make spare ship parts if you need 'em."

"I thought Crystal took care of our clothes."

"She does, now. She was hired only a few weeks ago. I used to get my clothes this way."

"So why was she hired in the first place?"

"The replicator is good, but it only goes so far. She's got – er, Crystal – a sense about the older styles and stuff. She can put it all together in a way that makes sense and won't make us stand out too much."

"Can't the replicator just be reprogrammed?"

"You're gonna begrudge this woman her job?"

"Ha, no. It just seems inefficient," she said.

"Time travel kind of is, kind of isn't. I mean, if we really wanted to do it up right, I suppose we'd send a cloaked probe to as close to the Big Bang as possible," he said, "And it would just feed us back any anomalous data as needed. We'd tweak it from Headquarters and correct it – er, have the probe or a 'bot do that – and then, whenever everything was corrected, we'd bring the probe back, and we'd be all done. You and I – or, most likely, just some lone technician – would only be around to recall the probe or feed it new instructions. Hell, just build a 'bot to do that and avoid humans entirely."

"That seems so sterile and dull."

"It is. I mean, why have manned space flight at all? Robots are cheaper, they last longer, and their reactions are more predictable. Their observations are more balanced and accurate," he said.

"Yet we go there anyway."

"Precisely."

She turned a corner, "Uh, Agent Daniels, are you trying to seduce me?" She had stumbled upon his bedroom.

"Uh, hmm, what's the best answer I can give here?"

"I don't know," she said, "But, uh, _really_?" she indicated the bed and its satin sheets.

"I, um, I'll tell you," he said, "This is a very lonely job," he took a breath.

"So sometimes you make friends."

"Right."

"How do you get Pre-Warp women up here and not contaminate the timeline?"

"Usually, I head to, er, their place. Or I cloak the interior and make it look like something else, using the holodeck controls," he hit a wall panel, and the scene was changed to a cottage bedroom from perhaps the 1800s. Another press on the panel and the scene became a luxury hotel, circa 2754.

"Neat trick," she said, "Anything, um, else, I should know about this part of things?"

"Everybody takes a birth control shot before the start of a mission. _Everyone_. No exceptions."

"I see. I guess you need to be covered."

"Definitely," he said. As for telling her specifically about _why_ that was the rule, well, there was no sense in getting down to the nitty gritty details of him and the Empress Hoshi Sato.

And their son, Jun.

There was no reason at all.

=/\=

 _I wait in the darkness of my lonely room_

 _Filled with sadness, filled with gloom_

 _Hoping soon that you'll walk_

 _Back through that door_

 _And love me like you tried before_

\- Freda Payne (Band of Gold)

14


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

 _Since you've been gone_

 _All that's left is a band of gold_

 _All that's left of the dream I hold_

 _is a band of gold._

 _And the dream of what love could be_

 _If you are still here with me_

\- Freda Payne (Band of Gold)

=/\=

"Okay, time to fire the pulse shot," Levi said. He set the controls and aimed for the heart of the Halkan star.

"Cloak first, Levi," Carmen reminded him.

"Ah, yeah," he fiddled a bit with the controls, "All set, now for the shot."

He fired a bit of dark matter, and a gap opened up that could only be seen on the far side of the Halkan star, away from any curious onlookers on any nearby planetary surfaces. He fired again, and the gap opened up some more. It could be seen through, to a darker space on the other side.

"How long will it be until we can go through?" Marisol asked.

"Only a few minutes," Levi replied.

=/\=

"And here we are," Kevin said, "2026, our side of the pond."

"There are a lotta manmade satellites," Tom pointed out.

"Yeah. They had had a few accidents in their space program, and the International Space Station proved to be too expensive to maintain properly, so they started a program of only sendin' up unmanned stuff. So right now they've got multiple orbiters around not just the Earth, but the other seven planets as well, plus Ceres and the bigger plutoids, like Pluto and Eris."

"It seems like a lotta junk."

"It's state of the art for the time," Kevin said, "But it's outta control. Once World War Three gets crankin', all maintenance stops, and the lil buggers start crashing down. All over the Solar System, boom boom, down they go. Once Warp Drive is invented, our ancestors figgered out that was a bad idea, and came up with the model we even use now. You know – one satellite to a customer – and countries cooperate and just build and send up the thing, to Mars or Saturn or wherever. This makes it fiscally possible to get something flying around all of the larger moons as well. They figured, if we could potentially live on it, it needed to have a satellite."

"For communications?" Tom asked.

"Defense, too. This was also, this cooperation, it's the start of what eventually becomes the United Earth Government."

"But right now we're going to the dissolution?"

"Well, it's the start of it," Kevin said, "This is the big breakup, before the even bigger unification. Don't forget to look mean."

=/\=

"Rounding 2015," Sheilagh read of the _Wells's_ instrument panel.

"Good. The _Wells_ isn't the fastest ship. I think the _Audrey II_ will be," Rick said.

"It seems fast enough."

"It definitely works well for our purposes. Let's do the birth control shots, before we forget them," he went back to the replicator and had it create two birth control shots – one for him, one for her, "Can you shoot yourself?"

"Yeah, I just hate doing that."

"Me, too," he admitted, "Bottoms up," he injected himself, and she did the same. Ready.

=/\=

Carmen handed out shots and weapons, "We can't take our own, modern phasers. We'll need to take those that are temporally appropriate."

"All right," said Marisol, injecting herself, "Why the birth control shot?"

"We don't want any temporally paradoxical babies, now, do we?" Carmen asked.

"Oh, is that a problem?"

Before Carmen could answer her, Levi pointed and said, "Looks like the gap's wide enough for us to go through."

"I'd say so," Carmen said, "Straight on through."

They entered the gap, and everything began to change. It was just sort of a heavy vibe in the air. _Bad mojo_ , Rick would have called it, if he'd been with them.

Things seemed darker, alien and sinister – life in a minor key.

"Is the replicator working all right?" Carmen asked Levi.

"It should be."

"All right, Computer, create two Transporter remote controls – both should be configured so as to look like mid-twenty-third century Communicators for the mirror universe."

"Aha," Marisol said.

"We'll use our own, real Communicators, of course. But you might have to flip it open to make it look authentic," Carmen said, "We can also just call Levi here, if all else fails, and he'll bring us back."

The mock Communicators were ready, "They're heavy," Marisol said.

"There's a spot of metal in them," Carmen explained, "This is before aluminoplastic."

"I see."

"Computer," Carmen said, "two phasers, mid-twenty-third century design, for the mirror universe," While the machine worked, she said to Marisol, "They do have a stun setting, but it's rarely used, plus it's got a pain enhancer. You can stun, and then give someone quite a migraine when they come to."

"That's rather convenient for such a violent society," Marisol commented.

"Levi, you'll monitor us, and fly around the Halkan star, picking up some dark matter to fuel our return journey, right?"

"Uh, sure," he said. He was still tapping around on his PADD, searching for clues as to how to decode the encrypted _Manifesto_.

"Well, then I guess we're off. Levi, please get us to their mess hall," Carmen said.

He punched in the coordinates on the Transporter, "Okay, ready."

"Energize."

=/\=

Back in 3109, while the three time ships made their way, a meeting was convened. It was a secret. Even the number of participants was not revealed, let alone their identities, locations, or even their genders.

They wanted to fix time to their own purposes, and to " _put right what had once gone wrong_ ". They were the authors of the _Manifesto_ , and their premise – " _There is much wrong with history_ " – it was more than a premise. It was a mantra, a fervent belief. It was practically a tenet of a temporal religion. They were the _Perfectionists_.

Their leader spoke, "We know that the Temporal Integrity Commission is conducting training missions today. There should be crowds at each of the three selected locations. This should be a good opportunity to observe the new employees, and see if any of them would like to, instead, join our cause."

"And how do you propose getting our operatives to each of these locations? There's only one working time ship there that we could possibly commandeer for our own purposes, the _Flux Capacitor_ ," said a skeptical voice. The vocal masking was so good, it was impossible to tell their age or gender.

"The _Flux Capacitor_ is not quite fully converted to the newer time travel technology," said another voice on the call.

"But can't it be used, with the older method?" a third voice inquired, also perfectly masked.

The leader spoke again, "We don't need a time ship."

"A time portal, then?" asked a voice.

"No," said the leader, "We don't need one of those, either."

There were gasps on the call. A hundred? A thousand? It was difficult to tell, but there were definitely a lot of them.

"How is that possible?" asked a voice, possibly one of those from before.

"Explain," said the leader.

A new voice came on the line, "A new invention allows for the complete circumvention of standard time travel technology. You don't need a time ship, and you don't need a time portal," The voice paused, "It is a dual invention, called the _Temporal Enzymatic Drive_. There is an edible enzyme called _trichronium_. The subject merely swallows it. Then the _Temporal Enhancer_ is set to the proper time and space coordinates, and the subject is effortlessly brought there. Then the subject, once ready to return, will be automatically recalled, when the timeline is checked, and a mission's success is independently verified."

"What makes this any better than time portals?" asked a skeptical voice, possibly one that had chimed in earlier, "It seems like an extra piece."

"The technology is portable. Instead of having a fixed time portal, sitting in a location that could be raided or destroyed at any time, the technology is light and even wearable. It's perfect for our purposes, and we can hide it anywhere."

"How do we know it's safe?" came another question.

"It is on my wrist right now," The leader said, "If anything happens to me, it can be destroyed, if necessary. I would trigger the recall first, of course, so as not to strand any of our operatives."

"Has it been tested?"

"Yes, and it has performed flawlessly. It was used to go to 1959 less than a month ago. We shall use it to send our operatives to 1970 Ohio, 2026 Colombia and 2267 mirror Halkan. These will be observational jaunts, nothing more. Let's see if anyone is vulnerable."

"Vulnerable?"

" _Receptive_ ," Corrected the leader.

"So, our plans to obtain one of their time ships – have those plans been changed?" asked another masked voice.

"Possibly," Answered the leader, "We'll see how it goes, having operatives out, at so many times and locations, all at the same time. We may grab a ship yet."

=/\=

 _Oh, don't you know that I wait in the darkness of my lonely room_

 _Filled with sadness, filled with gloom_

 _Hoping soon that you'll walk_

 _Back through that door_

 _And love me like you tried before_

\- Freda Payne (Band of Gold)


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

 _Since you've been gone_

 _All that's left is a band of gold_

 _All that's left of the dream I hold_

 _is a band of gold._

 _And the dream of what love could be_

 _If you are still here with me_

\- Freda Payne (Band of Gold)

=/\=

"Feeling ready?" Kevin asked Tom.

"I am," he drawled.

"Oh, wait, shots!" Kevin recalled at the last second, "It's kinda silly for us to be doin' this, but it's still the rule. You and I gotta take birth control shots," he explained.

"I don't know what you plan on doing, but I'm just gonna watch the bomb get dropped," Tom said.

"Well, me, too. But it's still the rule. If we forget this time, you might forget some other time, when you really need it," he went over to the replicator and had it produce the two shots.

"I take it this is a Rick Daniels rule," Tom said.

"It is."

"Not that I wanna gossip but, uh, you figure it's anything more than a precaution?" Tom asked.

"That's all I know about such things," Which was true – Rick had not shared the truth about the Empress Hoshi Sato's pregnancy with anyone but Carmen and his sister, Eleanor. And then Carmen had had to deal with the fallout with the delegation from that side of the pond. She had gone to bat for him, so he owed her.

Shots done, Tom looked at Kevin and said, "You might wanna tighten your collar up. I can see a few scales."

"Ah, thanks. I need to think with my mammal side, not the reptile side right now," Kevin said. He was almost two meters tall and about a quarter of a metric ton, but he was a sweet soul. His late wife, Josie, had referred to him as a gentle giant on more than one occasion. It wasn't just a few dermatological scales that could potentially give him away as not belonging to Phillip Green's band of ruthless eco-warriors.

=/\=

"So, Sheilagh, tell me about this mission," Rick said.

"All right. This is a protest, right?"

"Yes, it's anti-war."

"Uh huh. The Viet Nam War is going on, and the United States President – uh, Richard Nixon – he wants to extend the war to Cambodia."

"Actually, he has – he announces it on, if I recall correctly, April thirtieth."

"Ah, okay. And there's this nationwide student strike going on. The students are unhappy about all of this because they had thought the war was winding down. Now they realize it's really not, and they're gonna have to go out and fight it."

"Yes, but only the men."

" _Really_? How strange," she said, "Anyway, they march and whatnot and this is not the only place where these demonstrations are going on."

"Yes, but this one gets ugly."

"Right. And it doesn't start on May fourth; it starts on May the first. And it gets violent rather quickly. Kent State University's administration calls in the police on the first; by the fourth, the National Guard has arrived. And that's when things really go haywire."

"And?"

"And that's when the shooting begins."

"That's correct. What are the casualties?"

"Um, nine wounded, right?" Rick nodded, "And four die, mostly immediately."

"Computer," Rick said, "access master time file for Ohio, May the fourth, 1970."

"Ready," Answered the device.

"Show pictures," A picture popped onto the screen, of a young girl, anguished, kneeling over a body, "That girl isn't even a student – she's a young runaway. But it doesn't matter. The act, and this photograph, in particular, they helped to galvanize the anti-war movement."

"But Nixon is still reelected in '72."

"Yes, although that's under somewhat false pretenses. It does change hearts and minds. It does help to prevent the United States from continuing on, and eventually going into China."

"Where I take it they would have availed themselves of the nuclear option?" she asked.

"That's Otra's theory – she says, I've got a note from her – she says that it was tragic what happened at Kent, but things would have been far worse if it _hadn't_ happened. Then we'd be talking about a tragedy on the level of millions of deaths."

"How does she see that?"

"I don't know," Rick admitted, "Between you and me and the replicator, I'm not so sure that Marisol really has the gift."

"Oh?"

"Well, it's just so difficult to balance all of the variables. I mean, in theory, I suppose that _anything_ is possible, except the chances are virtually zero that, on May fourth, the population of the Earth will suddenly start breathing tricoulamine gas."

"Or that the war in Viet Nam would end during or immediately after the protest we're going to witness."

"Exactly," he said, "Say, do you want to, maybe, go in a day early?"

"Early? Why?"

"To get a feel for the place – the fourth is a Monday, so Sunday there's no classes and things would be a bit different on the campus," What he didn't want to add was, maybe find some companionship, at least for the night.

"Well, it _is_ my first mission," she said, "But we'll need a change of clothes."

"You can beam up, change, and be back down on the morning of the fourth."

"What'll we do with all of this time?"

"This is a college campus. Even without the protests, there must be a thousand things to do. Just, uh, keep your mouth shut about who you are, and where and when you're from, and you'll be just fine."

"What if I screw up?"

"Laugh and say it's a joke. Or, uh, try to hang around drunk or stressed out people. They won't even notice."

"Uh, okay."

=/\=

Carmen and Marisol materialized in a dark corner of the _ISS Enterprise_ 's mess hall. They didn't seem to be noticed – at least not initially – so Carmen felt confident enough to leave the room and walk in the hallway.

Together they walked, and were leered at by a few stray crewmen, "They're acting liked they haven't seen women in weeks," Marisol said to Carmen quietly.

"They have seen women – the Emperor Charles the first loves his women, so they're actually treated a bit better during this time period than they were during the time of Empress Hoshi. So we're not unique. But we are _new_."

"Looking for someone?" asked a crew member. By the color of his uniform top – red – he belonged to the Security detail.

"We're looking for the Captain," Carmen said. She and Marisol were wearing blue uniforms – tagging them as members of the Science detail.

"Actually, I bet you want Mister Spock," The crewman replied, indicating their uniforms.

"Yes, yes, of course," Marisol said.

"I can get you there – can tell you're new. It'll cost ya, of course," he said.

"Oh?" Marisol asked, coming closer to him.

"Yes. I've often wondered about, you know, two at once. Would you do your friend while I watched?"

"Your price is too high," Carmen said.

"But what if I sweetened the pot?" the fellow asked. A few other male crewmen were coming, and he could tell his big chance was slipping away, so he talked more quickly, "I've got an A ration card. Meat every day, if it's available! And, and, I could protect you a little when you needed it."

"We can take care of ourselves," Carmen said.

"You'll regret it if you pass up the opportunity," he said, overly arrogant, especially considering his low station on the ship, "Now, what's it gonna be?"

The other crewmen were close enough to hear, so Carmen said, more loudly, "All we want is to get to the damned Bridge."

"Turbo lift's over there, through that doorway," said another crewman.

"Good to know," Marisol said to him.

The two of them began to walk away. The first crewman yelled at the helpful one, "What are ya doin' that for? You're too soft, Kyle."

" _Kyle_ ," Carmen said softly, "Come in here," she said to Marisol, and they ducked into a room label _Laboratory_.

It looked like a chamber of horrors in there, but at least they were alone, "Change of plans?" Marisol asked.

"It looks like we're a little earlier than expected. I recall Crewman Kyle is running the Transporter during the interuniversal crossover. And he's not there yet."

"How do you know?"

"The men – _not the women_ – carry around these devices called _agonizers_. When the transference occurs, Kyle is punished. His is used, and he's most likely incapacitated by that, I'm thinking for the remainder of the day."

"You're not sure?"

"The master time file doesn't have everything in it – it can't – and we have even less for the mirror side of things. But we do have records like duty rosters and pay stubs and the like. And I had checked, as it was known that Kyle had been involved. He only was given credit for part of the day. He hadn't died, so there was some reason why he missed time. Plus it makes sense that he would be punished. It all points to use of the agonizer, and enough to knock him out for the rest of the day," Carmen said.

"You said only the men are made to carry agonizers. Uh, how are women punished?" Marisol asked.

"It's, uh," Carmen sighed, "this is a time of a lot more controlled punishments in the Terran Empire. So, well, women who have to be punished, it's usually taken out in trade."

"You mean sexual favors."

"You betcha," Carmen said, "Now you see why you got a birth control shot before we beamed over?"

=/\=

 _Stop! Na na na! You'd better save it!_

 _Stop, stop, stop, you'd better save it!_

\- The Jackson Five (The Love You Save)

12


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

 _When we played tag in grade school_

 _You wanted to be It._

 _But chasing boys was just a fad_

 _You crossed your heart you'd quit._

\- The Jackson Five (The Love You Save)

=/\=

They beamed behind a campus building. It was the early evening, and students should have been hurrying to dinner or elsewhere. It was a Sunday and, while there were supposed to be classes the following day, the atmosphere was more charged. Students _knew_ there was something happening, so they strolled together and talked and there was a sense that dinner or fraternities or even studying were somehow less important than protests. Protests felt more mature, and more meaningful.

"What'll we do if we're split up?" Sheilagh asked.

"Actually, I was _planning_ on us splitting up," Rick said.

"Ah," she said, "You're off to find a willing coed?"

"If I can. So, um, we'll witness it all and just beam up independently tomorrow. Use your Communicator – uh, in private – if anything goes awry or if you think you'll be late."

"Sure thing. You gonna use the ship for, uh, for tonight?" she asked.

"Doubtful – but it's not outside the realm of possibility. But, yanno, I'll make sure not to beam up unless I'm alone. So, feel free to take the bed."

"Thanks. Happy hunting."

=/\=

Bogotá, Colombia in 2026 was a place of faded glory. The high rises weren't as nicely kept up, and there was uncollected trash in the streets. Kevin and Tom materialized behind an oil drum near a building.

"Why is this here?" Tom asked, indicating the oil drum. There were several others nearby.

"This is a time of want," Kevin said, "You keep your own food and fuel as close as possible. Fossil fuels are almost all the way gone, but not quite. These barrels – even the empty ones – hold serious value."

"Why would the empty ones have value?"

"If they haven't been cleaned out, there's some residue. It can still be utilized, if it's scraped out properly. And if they _are_ cleaned out, well, the value is in selling them and bluffing. Fill 'em with water, maybe with a tiny bit of residue to add a little aroma, and some sucker's bound to bite."

"You mean be cheated?" Tom drawled.

"Well, yeah. Like I said, there's poverty now. Even the richest of the rich are feelin' it. Scams like that are pretty common."

"And the poor?" Tom asked.

Kevin started to walk around the back of the building, and check for a point of entry, "Oh yeah, the poor – they go hungry, mostly. This is why there's such a huge world military – it's the promise of three squares. 'Course, they usually didn't get three squares, but that didn't stop people from joinin' up. In a lotta the smaller cities in Europe and Asia, soldiers outnumber civilians by at least two to one. And the folks who remain civilians are generally children, pregnant, elderly or disabled. But that's changing."

"How? I mean, how can _those_ people possibly fight?"

"They shouldn't join up, but they do. And they shouldn't be taken, but they are. So you get child soldiers, as young as ten or eleven. You get older ones, in their sixties, and maybe even a few in their seventies. Pregnant women hang in there until their uniforms no longer fit. The physically disabled hide what they can – there's a huge deaf division. The mentally disabled, man, that's the worst – they go in if they can at least follow simple commands."

"It's exploitation."

"It sure is. Damn, these doors are all locked. Anyway, civilians also start to get killed off – at least, the poor are. There just ain't enough food to go around. People would sometimes even sell ole Grandpa out and abandon him somewhere, take his ration card, cover it up as long as they could."

"My God."

"All right, we need to get in. Can you hit the lock with that thing?" Kevin indicated a rifle that Tom was carrying. It was spare and light, composed of a dark metal alloy with a mainly open stock – an old Uzi.

"Sure, just stand back."

"Once we're in, no more jibber jabber. And put your game face on. You are now officially the meanest SOB to ever walk the Earth."

"Who's to say I'm not already?" Tom asked, raising the Uzi and aiming.

=/\=

Sheilagh found a party. It was not hard to spot – male and female students were filtering in and out of a private house. Some of the students were carrying beer bottles.

"Hey!" yelled a guy, and he waved at her as if he knew her. She came over, "Margaret, right?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah, I'm Margaret," Sheilagh lied.

"I'm glad you're here. There aren't a lotta girls here yet, and I think some of 'em will leave if the ratio gets any more skewed," There were a few girls, mostly hanging together – a sad-eyed brunette, a young brunette who seemed cheerier, and a few African-American girls. Some of the guys were chatting them up, but no one was really getting anywhere. He brought Sheilagh over, "Allison, Chrissie, Diane, Sherry, this is Margaret. She's a friend of my sister, Ellen. Margaret's at Ohio State."

"Hiya," Sheilagh said, "That's a pretty dress, Diane," she told one of the African-American girls. She looked around. It was awkward, beyond awkward in there. But now that she'd been introduced, she couldn't just leave. She sighed. It was going to be a long night. Perhaps Rick was having better luck.

=/\=

He wasn't – at least, not initially. He'd found a house party of his own, and the ratio was just as out of kilter. He finally just went up to the best-looking coed in the room and said, "Wanna get out of here?"

"Whaddaya have in mind?"

"Some place quieter," he said.

"Forget it, chauvinist," she said.

"No disrespect meant," he said, and departed alone. The hasty retreat he was beating brought him right into the middle of a bunch of students who were chanting and marching. They sang:

 _"The only thing we did was right,_

 _was the day we started to fight._

 _Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on!"_

"You scared about going to Cambodia?" a coed asked, who was marching beside him as he fell in with them.

"Uh, a little."

"You look like you've been through a few of these deferments already," she said.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm no eighteen-year-old," he said, "I'm getting my Master's in Engineering."

"I'm Windy," she said, giving him a peace sign rather than shaking his hand.

" _Windy_?"

"It's actually Annette," she admitted, "But once I heard the song a few years ago, well, I had to be _Windy_ once I started classes here."

"Um, okay. And, uh, call me Rick," he smiled at her, "These protests go on all the time?"

"Not _all_ the time, but enough. Half the time, you can't get to class without stumbling over someone protesting something or other," Windy said, smiling back at him.

"Well, people care about the future," Rick said, "That's a good thing."

"Whaddaya think the future is like?" she asked.

"Fewer meaningless wars," he said.

"So they're _meaningful_?" she asked, "People die either way."

"But there's nothing wrong with fighting for a just cause. I mean is there?" he asked.

"I suppose not," she said, "I can see fighting the Nazis. My Dad landed on Juno Beach on D-Day. That's over twenty-five years ago. Before I was born – before most of the people here were, too. It might as well be a thousand years ago."

"Like the Norman Conquests?"

"1066. I may be getting my BA in French Lit, but I still remember _that_ date. The nuns really drilled it into our heads," Windy said.

"And 1492 and 1776, eh?" he asked. And 2267. And 2026. And 2157. And a bunch of other dates, but they hadn't happened yet.

"Right. It all seems so sterile. If we could really see the times, you know, somehow insert ourselves into history and really be there, man, that would surely be amazing."

"Maybe so," he said, as they continued to march. But go back not too far and there's no penicillin."

"Yeah, that is kinda handy," she said, "Like the Pill."

"Ah," Rick said, "That mean what I think it does?"

"Probably," Windy said, "Don't kid yourself – there's a good minority of people who come to these protests looking for a pick up and not much more."

"That's wrong," Rick said, although it was _exactly_ the reason why he was there.

"I don't pretend that it's not, sometimes, why I join 'em," Windy admitted.

"Was that the reason tonight?"

"No, at least, not to start," she said, "Still…."

"You got a place?" Rick asked.

"With a roommate," she replied, "But I think Chrissie's otherwise occupied herself," she pointed. Chrissie was the sad-eyed brunette from the party where Sheilagh had been trapped, and was walking toward them.

"Ah."

"Hang on, I'll arrange things," Windy and Chrissie talked quietly for a few minutes. Something agreed to, Chrissie walked off in another direction.

"Are we all set?" Rick asked.

She nodded, "I've had enough protesting for one night."

=/\=

 _When we grew up you traded_

 _Your promise for my ring_

 _Now just like back to grade school_

 _You're doing the same old thing!_

\- The Jackson Five (The Love You Save)

11


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

 _Stop! The love you save may be your own!_

 _Darling, take it slow_

 _Or someday you'll be all alone._

 _You'd better stop the love you save may be your own!_

 _Darling, look both ways before you cross me_

 _You're headed for the danger zone._

\- The Jackson Five (The Love You Save)

=/\=

The Transporter Room on the _ISS Enterprise_ was clear of all personnel except for Crewman Kyle. Mister Spock was walking in that direction. Marisol and Carmen saw him, and followed, "Sir," Carmen ventured, "we'd like to observe this transport, if we could."

"That is most irregular," he said as they walked.

"We're new," Marisol explained, "And we're studying the Transporter. We want to see if there's a way to increase the amount of time a person can remain in the buffer without any pattern degradation."

"That is useful research," Spock said, "Come along, but stay out of the way."

"By all means, sir," Carmen said. They followed him.

They joined Crewman Kyle in the Transporter Room, and nodded at him, "Sir, there's an ion storm on the surface," Kyle said.

"Understood, yet the Captain's party still requires a transport," Spock replied.

The four patterns emerged briefly, then vanished, and then returned, and the party finished materializing. The four in the party were a bit stunned to see Spock with a goatee, and when the Captain was saluted.

Carmen and Marisol watched much of the exchange, including Crewman Kyle being punished by his agonizer, wielded by Mister Spock, for allowing the power beam to wobble, "Have you finished making your calculations?" Spock asked, after Kyle had skulked away.

"Uh, yes, sir," Carmen said, tapping on a tricorder.

"Dismissed," he said to her and Marisol.

Marisol and Carmen left the Transporter Room, where they found Kyle doubled over in pain, only a few meters from the door. On an impulse, Carmen came over to him, "Let's get you to Sick Bay," she said.

"No. No doctors," he gasped.

"No doctors?" Marisol asked.

"It's a sign of weakness," he whispered as he grimaced.

"Come with us. We'll, uh; we'll take you to your quarters," Carmen said.

"You'll want something from me," he said.

"You helped us out earlier," Marisol said. She stood next to him and he put his hand on her waist to steady himself.

"Plus you can give us more directions. That's the only payment we're looking for," Carmen said, getting on the other side of him.

"Are you sure?" he gasped. They began to walk slowly, "Why are you being kind to me?"

"You were kind to _us_ ," Marisol said quietly.

"I'm not so sure I know how to be kind," he admitted.

"You do well enough, Crewman," Carmen said.

"Uh, call me John. And you are?"

"Figments of your imagination," Carmen said.

"Nice, uh, figments."

Crewmen began to leer at them as they made their way, "Hey, Kyle, how'd _you_ land a threesome?" one of them yelled.

"Just lucky, I guess," he said, trying not to wince. They got into the turbo lift, "Uh, I feel awful. I doubt I can, uh, today. Tomorrow, though, if either of you wanted to – maybe both."

Carmen smiled at him, "We're figments, remember? So we'll just tuck you in."

They got to E Deck, and to his quarters, "My, I have a roommate," he said, "But he's moved in with the girl who runs the Botany Lab. So he doesn't have to clear out or anything."

They eased him into bed. He reached for them, but they eluded him, "Tell us where the Captain's quarters are," Carmen said.

"Uh, A deck," Kyle said.

"Thank you. Now sleep and have beautiful dreams," Marisol said.

"Will you be back?" he asked, but they were already gone.

=/\=

Sheilagh finally got out of the party by feigning a headache. She began to walk around the campus, seeing protests and the spillovers from various other house and fraternity parties. There was a bit of public drunkenness going on, amidst all of the earnest protesting.

Chrissie walked by, and Sherry, and they waved and smiled at her, but didn't stop to talk. It was getting late, and Sheilagh was tired. She was about ready to call it a night when a male student came up to her and asked, "Wanna drop acid?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Acid. You know, LSD."

"Huh?"

"C'mon, you some rube from the hills or something?" he asked.

"No, just too tired for such things."

"C'mon."

"No," she said. She got herself behind another building and, once she was satisfied that no one was watching, beamed back to the _Wells_.

=/\=

Windy was almost as aggressive as a lot of the women Rick had known, although not as much as the Empress Hoshi had been. Then again, Hoshi would have been tough to top in that area. Instead, Windy was giggly and playful. She insisted on a little wine beforehand, but then was ready to go.

Kissing easily gave way to exploration. The peasant top she'd been wearing quickly hit the floor. No bra! That was a pleasant surprise for him. Then his shirt hit the floor.

He kissed his way down as he removed her jeans, and then her panties. She got his pants off and breathed, "You'll do that?"

"Sure I will," He said, "unless you don't want me to."

"Oh, I _want_ you to," she said, "I just thought it might be a bit much for you, Mister Master's Degree in Engineering."

"Ha, it's not too much," he assured her, "French Lit, huh? Is that how you learned to kiss?"

"Very funny, Rick."

He stopped talking, and got down to it, "Make sure and tell me if I'm doing this right."

"Oh, yeah," she gasped, "That's the spot."

When she'd climaxed, he came up to her and was ready to get on top, "Uh-uh," she said, getting on top instead, "Can you take it?" she breathed as they moved.

"Can you?" he replied, a bit breathless as they sweated together.

She was wiped out by the time he finally climaxed, "Mmm," she chuckled, "Better than the sophomores I've known."

"Experience is a good teacher," he said, "Can I, uh, can I sleep here tonight?"

"Sure. _If_ you sleep," she said, grinning and grabbing at him again.

=/\=

The Perfectionists sent three operatives to make their own observations. One went to 1970 Ohio. Another went to 2026 Bogotá, and the other one to the 2267 _ISS Enterprise_. One of the three was the movement's leader.

The Temporal Enzymatic Drive, coupled with the three swallows of trichronium, performed as perfectly as expected. The movement's leader had to admit – it was a helluva find.

=/\=

When Sheilagh got up on the fourth, she was a tad disoriented, as anyone would be after sleeping in someone else's bed. She had the replicator make her some breakfast and then a change of underwear and a new top. She would wear the skirt and the shoes again. No worries.

She figured that Rick was fine, and that she wouldn't have to start worrying unless the day ended and he failed to return to the _Wells_.

=/\=

Inside, Tom and Kevin found themselves in the midst of a military unit marching down a hall. They followed, two more pairs of tramping feet, echoing on a hard floor.

The unit filed into a large room. A tall, dark-haired man walked to the front of the room and began to speak, "We must reject the impure and cast it out. Purity must be maintained. To be human is to be pure. We are here in Bogotá to be near the lungs of our great planet – the rainforest. And we're close, too, to the only place where there's still any oil confirmed to be left – Venezuela. But there are rumors that there's still some oil in Nigeria," he took a breath.

"This is not a time for timidity and second guessing. We cannot afford to doubt ourselves. We must strike now!" he paused for a moment and the crowd, men and women in uniforms in various states of repair, thunderously agreed as one. Kevin and Tom had no choice but to agree.

"And you know," Colonel Green continued, "and I know, that any oil left in Nigeria must be turned over to our movement. The time for talk is over. It's _long_ over. It's time for action. _Are you with me_?" he yelled to the audience.

"Yes, sir!" they all yelled back.

Tom looked around him. Kevin was on one side of him. On the other was a middle-aged fellow, someone who had maybe seen a few campaigns in his day. There were women in front of him, and he and Kevin were in the last row so there was no one behind him.

There was a slight break in the proceedings as a screen came down from the ceiling and a linkup was set up with a broadcast from Nigeria.

The middle-aged man turned to Tom and said, "Whaddaya think?"

"I'm here to do as I'm told," Tom drawled.

"Everybody is. Or, they should be."

" _Should_ ," Kevin said, "Let's keep watching."

=/\=

 _I'm the one who loves you!_

 _I'm the one you need!_

 _Those other guys will put you down_

 _as soon as they succeed!_

\- The Jackson Five (The Love You Save)

12


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

 _They'll ruin your reputation!_

 _They'll label you a flirt!_

 _The way they talk about you_

 _They'll turn your name to dirt, oh!_

\- The Jackson Five (The Love You Save)

=/\=

It was morning, normally the time for Rick to make a quick getaway. But the bed was comfortable, Windy was willing, and they were entangled together, a mass of arms and legs, a kind of eight-legged and two-headed life form. And so he stayed. And stayed.

=/\=

On the _ISS Enterprise_ , Marisol and Carmen got to A deck, just in time to see a Crewman vanish into thin air, "What just happened?" asked Marisol, "They're not supposed to have intra-ship beaming."

"Come here," Carmen said, and they got behind some piping, "And keep your voice down."

Marisol nodded. Carmen continued, "They didn't have intra-ship beaming. You just saw the Tantalus Field in action."

"The what?" whispered Marisol.

"This is how Kirk keeps his power, on this particular side of the pond. The problem is no one's supposed to know about it, save for Kirk and his woman, Marlena Moreau."

"How bad is it?" asked Marisol.

"We should cut things short, so we don't fall victim."

There was a sound of a throat being cleared behind them. They turned. It was the first Crewman who'd tried to exploit them in exchange for information, "Lost?" he asked.

"We were just talking about makeup," Carmen said.

"And hairstyles," Marisol added.

"Kyle know you're here?"

"He's not our boss," Marisol said.

"I thought …."

"He doesn't own us," Carmen said, "Now, why don't we do this? You go to the mess hall. See what's good there. Bring some of it back. We'll be waiting in your quarters."

"Uh, B deck, room 114. And, uh, whaddaya like?"

"Sweet things," Marisol said, "And things we can smear – on you, on ourselves, on each other, too."

"I'll, I'll see what I can find," he said and left, but not before groping each of them.

Marisol made a face and turned to Carmen, "How do you propose we make our departure?"

She looked around for a second, "Turbo lift. Let's go before Lover Boy starts to miss us," They got in. Carmen thought for a second, and then asked for Engineering. The lift began to descend. She engaged her implanted Communicator, "Levi?" she called, but there was no answer.

=/\=

Sheilagh was still wandering around the Kent State campus as groups began to coalesce. It was around noon, and leaflets were being handed out, saying that the rally was cancelled. But it obviously wasn't, as people chanted while waiting for the speakers to start. Someone rang the school's iron Victory Bell, it was almost like a call to arms, it seemed. The National Guard arrived, and ordered them to disperse. Then the Guard left, but they returned and used tear gas, and then fixed bayonets and herded the students up a little hill.

She saw the four women she'd met at the previous night's house party – Diane and Sherry, the African-American girls; Allison, a cheery brunette; and Chrissie, a sad-eyed brunette. They waved and she waved back. Her back was to a campus building. They were out in the open, on the little hill.

She then saw the National Guard troops all kneel down, in one fluid motion. _That was odd_ , she thought to herself, and had barely gotten the thought completed when she realized it was happening. She screamed. In front of her, three of the four women ducked. The fourth, a little lost and confused, turned slightly.

The shots began then, and the last one, the fourth one, fell to the ground.

Students began running in all directions as the shooting continued. A bullet whizzed by her head and struck the wall behind her. It was loud, as students yelled, in alarm and pain, surprise and panic and fear, and feet ran, kicking up rocks in the open.

But all that Sheilagh could hear was the sound of her own screaming.

=/\=

Colonel Green began speaking again, as soon as the screen was in place, "You are here to witness a great event. Nigeria has been, let's just say, a bit recalcitrant. Since they won't give up their oil voluntarily, we'll have to take it by any means necessary."

The crowd yelled back, " _By any means necessary_!"

"Are you with me?" yelled Green.

" _Yes_!" they all yelled, more or less in unison.

He nodded, and an assistant pressed down a lever. Thousands of kilometers away, the image on the screen – Lagos, Nigeria – turned from a picture of a vibrant city with millions of people to a city in ruins, as a mushroom cloud arose.

There were women standing in front of Tom. One of them began to cry, "God forgive us," she wailed, "How can we be so selfish and stupid?"

The man on Tom's left; the one who'd talked to him earlier took out a pistol and shot her. She crumpled to the floor. Tom was about ready to say something when he felt Kevin's hand on his arm.

"Good thing you did that," One of the surviving women said to the shooter, gesturing down at the body, "Orders can't be questioned."

Tom gulped. _I was only following orders._ It was a coward's way out of responsibility. The Nazis had made that argument at Nuremberg. He caught Kevin's eye, "I, uh," Tom said, thinking fast, "I gotta call my girl. Tell her what a, what a great thing we've done today."

"Yeah, uh, me, too," Kevin stammered. They left the assembly as quickly and as surreptitiously as they could. Back at the spot where they'd initially beamed in, by the oil drums, Kevin said, "I got no idea if that girl was supposed to die today. Let's hope it was purely otric – you know, that it doesn't really make a difference in the timeline – and get outta Dodge."

"I'm with you. It's a wonder we evolved into who we became, after horrors like this."

They beamed back up to the _Jack_ , set it for 3109 at as high a speed as was possible, and then both could scarcely wait to throw the hated uniforms into the disposer.

On the surface, in 2026 Bogotá, the Agent from the Perfectionists watched, and nodded, and waited for trichronium levels to drop enough so that recall would be automatic.

=/\=

Rick and Windy had heard the gunfire at Kent. They sprang out of bed, "What should we do?" she asked, voice edged with panic.

"Uh, get dressed. Um, maybe you should stay here."

She disappeared into the bathroom. He grabbed his clothes and started putting them on quickly. He'd need to find Sheilagh. He was kicking himself – this had not been a professional move on his part, not at all.

"Did you see where my ID went?" she asked from the bathroom.

"Uh, hang on," he said. He looked around on her desk and found a card with _Kent State University_ printed at the top. Then there was her picture on the left and to the right her name: _Annette Bradley, Class of 1971_ , "Found it!"

"Oh, good, thanks," she came out and was fully dressed, "You better finish what you're doing."

"Oh, uh, yeah," he put on his shoes, "I, I'd better go."

"It's dangerous out there."

"No, I, uh, I don't think so," he said, "And my, my sister, Sheilagh, she's out there. I better find her."

"Oh, um, okay."

He came over and kissed her, "I, I really had a good time."

"This is weird," she said, "It feels like a bad omen. Uh, sorry. You'd better go."

Good, he thought, he wouldn't have to lie to her, tell her he'd call or that he'd miss her. He left, hoping that there wouldn't be another round of gunfire to greet him outside.

=/\=

"Dammit, Levi! Calavicci to Cavendish!" the turbo lift was speeding along to Engineering. Carmen wanted to be off the _ISS Enterprise_ before they reached that destination.

"Oh, yeah," Levi finally said from his seat on the _Audrey_.

"Get us out of here. _Now_ ," Carmen bellowed.

He hit a few switches and they were back on the _Audrey Niffenegger_. He was about to go back to his PADD, but Carmen stopped him, "You were _supposed_ to be on alert."

"I _was_ ," he said, getting defensive.

"Look, I know you don't travel much. But we weren't exactly in a great situation," Carmen said.

"We should start heading back," Marisol said, "I assume we're done here."

"We are," Carmen said, "Oh, Levi, put that thing down for a moment and set a course to rendezvous with the _USS Adrenaline_ , September seventh, 3109."

=/\=

Rick found Sheilagh standing against a wall, shaking. The shooting had stopped, and ambulances had arrived, as had the local press. A television news reporter crew came over, but he waved them off. Instead, the reporter talked to three of the four girls, and then to Windy, who broke down when she saw a figure on one of the stretchers, "Christine!" she yelled. The other three women – Allison, Diane and Sherry – gathered around her protectively.

"And there you have it," The reporter said into the camera, "Three dead and ten wounded, including the roommate of the young woman we just spoke with, Annette Bradley. The roommate is identified as eighteen-year-old Christine Hynde, known as Chrissie. The identities of the other wounded are not yet known. The identities of the dead are being withheld, pending notification of their families," The reporter wrapped up and, camera crew behind her, began looking around for more people to interview.

Rick said to Sheilagh, "Time to go."

She was very compliant – still in deep shock. The area was swarming with people, so they ended up going into a faculty building. In a quiet hall, Rick engaged the Transporter remote control, and they returned to the _Wells_.

=/\=

"No worse for wear," Marisol said, as the _Audrey Niffenegger_ began its journey back, "A pity we didn't get a chance to see all we wanted to."

"It happens," Carmen said, "But I figured we shouldn't take our chances around that Tantalus field. All the stem cell growth accelerator in the world isn't going to be able to cure what it can do."

"What is the Tantalus field, anyway?" Marisol asked.

"Oh, it's, um, the theory is that it's a kind of wall-built phaser," Levi explained as he flew the ship, "It doesn't have a very big range. But it's fine for a starship of that era."

"How does it work?" asked Carmen.

"It's, well, it's a strange idea. Most other weapons are based on guns. You know, an item or more than one item leaves one place and, really quickly, goes to another."

"So they're just projectiles that do damage," Carmen summarized.

"Yes, but sometimes that's just due to speed and force. Uh, shrapnel works that way. If I throw a soft-boiled egg at you, it'll be messy but not too harmful. If I do that with fatal explosive force, like in a gun, it's like a bullet. So, uh, the Tantalus field, it's like a phaser, like I said. And the beam is directed, but through surveillance cameras. You see the person on the view screen, you can aim at them. You then push a button to shoot, and the field kinda zips through the ship's conduits, to wherever the live camera is pointed. There are other cameras, but the aim only goes to the one that's selected."

"I thought these could be used to hit more than one target at a time," Carmen said.

"That comes later, after this time period," he said, "They improve it, and make it so you can hit through more than one camera at a time. They stop using it by 2300 or so, in the mirror."

"Why?" Marisol asked.

"It's wasn't enough fun for them. They wanted to be able to watch people suffer," Carmen explained.

"Such lovely people we are saving."

"Not saving," Carmen said, "We're just restoring original timelines, nothing more."

=/\=

The other two Agents for the Perfectionists were brought back to 3109, to their respective points of origin, and the leader of the movement felt confident that the Temporal Enzymatic drive was a far superior bit of technology than the time ships. Any plans to grab a ship were put on hold. The movement would be informed at their next meeting. If that was possible – for things were not as they seemed.

As for the time ships, they made their way back. The _Jack_ got in first, as was to be expected, and then the _Wells_. And, finally, chugging along, came the old _Audrey Niffenegger_.

=/\=

 _Isaac said he kissed you_

 _Beneath the apple tree_

 _When Benjie held your hand he felt_

 _Electricity!_

 _When Alexander called you_

 _He said he rang your chimes._

 _Christopher discovered_

 _You're way ahead of your times!_

\- The Jackson Five (The Love You Save)

15


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

 _Stop! The love you save may be your own!_

 _Darling, take it slow_

 _Or someday you'll be all alone._

 _You'd better stop the love you save may be your own!_

 _Darling, look both ways before you cross me_

 _You're headed for a danger zone._

\- The Jackson Five (The Love You Save)

=/\=

Otra, while most of the rest of the department was busying themselves with the training expeditions, had mainly been spending time in the cafeteria. She would occasionally see Boris or Deirdre, but aside from those brief encounters, kept her head low.

She had been investigating temporal alternatives, as that was her job. She had a kind of different vision, whereby she was able to sense, and then see, timeline changes. She could navigate through time, too, and was often able to spot when a divergence had occurred – even, sometimes, before the computers had. She was a rare find, and Carmen was determined to keep her happy.

Her needs were few. She had a modest home, and several friends. She was, mainly, not looking for love. As a human-Witannen hybrid, there were few like her. She didn't always feel as if she belonged to either side, although she was warmly welcomed by both.

She set up camp in the cafeteria, and had been drinking mug after mug of green tea. Now, the contents of the mug had gone cold, so the chavecoi on top of her head had apparently felt it was safe enough to investigate. One of them dipped down into the mug, and invaded her peripheral vision, "Get out," she said, a little annoyed, batting it back gently. It returned, "C'mon, you're not gonna like that," she said. The flower-like appendage dipped itself into the mug and the level of liquid went down slightly. This apparently alarmed the chavecoi, which briefly turned a very dark purple and shot straight up. The others waved away from it.

"See, I _told_ you, you wouldn't like it. But did you listen? _Noooo_."

Two silver Calafan women came over, "Do they listen when you talk to them?" asked the bald one.

"Oh, huh, no. They can't really hear. I find myself talking to them like some people talk to their PADDs."

"Can we sit with you?" asked the one with hair. They both had heavy Lafa V accents, which made them sound Irish.

"Oh, of course. I'm just pondering. And I can ponder later," Otra said.

They introduced themselves, "I'm Yilta," said the one with hair, "And this is Yiria. Our names mean," she pointed to herself, " _Student of Travel_ and _Student of Service_. And you?"

"Uh, Otra means, huh, let me check," she consulted a PADD, "It's a little animal on Dawitan, kind of like a chipmunk. So, maybe, it's _mouse_?"

"Thank you. Not everyone likes to play that game, but we do it all the time," Yiria said, "It's a tradition with our kind."

"I'm afraid we don't have that," Otra admitted.

"We are here," Yilta said, "because we know that there is trouble. Everyone has gotten word. It's disturbing to think that there is someone inside who is against us."

"True," Otra agreed.

"Everyone is investigating," said Yiria, "You think you're cleared, and then you're not. I would love to be able to trust everyone. I despise deceptions."

Otra drank from the cold mug and made a face. "Ugh. No wonder the chavecoi didn't want this. It's ice cold. Anyone want anything while I'm up?"

They said no, so she went to the dispenser. While there, she was hit with one of her visions. She could tell that there would need to be a meeting with at least one of the teams once they'd returned.

Something in history had changed.

=/\=

They filed in, one by one. Levi, still mesmerized by his PADD, almost walked into the door jamb. Carmen and Marisol, still in mirror universe uniforms from 2267, came next. Kevin and Tom, both looking somber, quietly took seats. Then Rick and Sheilagh arrived. She was looking a bit bewildered.

"Thank you for coming on short notice," Otra said. It was a little conference room, with just enough chairs, "We have a change – perhaps more than one."

"Oh?" Carmen asked.

"Yes. It's on our side of the pond," Otra explained. 

"These were just observational missions," Kevin said, "No one shoulda been able to change anything."

"Well, someone did, somehow," Otra insisted.

"Perhaps it was our friends with the _Manifesto_ ," Carmen offered, "Is there any news on the decryption?"

"Oh, uh, nothing yet," Levi said distractedly.

"I don't know if it's them," Otra said.

"What are the specifics?" Rick asked.

"Warp Drive is perfected fourteen years early," she replied.

"So, it happens in 2049. But it's still Zefram Cochrane, right?" Marisol asked.

"Yep."

"What about the Third World War?" Tom asked, "Is it shorter, too?"

"Sadly, no," she said.

"So Warp Drive is invented, is it under the auspices of war, or the military?" Kevin asked.

"It's turned over to Colonel Green almost immediately," she said, chavecoi bouncing and waving.

"I take it that doesn't have the greatest of purposes or motivations behind it?" asked Carmen.

"Correct. It's used for conquest of the Solar System. The Vulcans make first contact, but it's later, in 2117. We all know the original history, too, where Colonel Green is torn apart by an angry mob?" Otra asked. Everyone nodded, "This time around, he has two more children, and dies in his sleep later, in 2109."

"Huh," Carmen said, "I take it there are other impacts."

"Yes," Otra said, "Take a look," she projected the image on her PADD's screen against the wall of the little conference room. It was a news broadcast from Earth for that day, September seventh, 3109, "And in other news," the anchorwoman was saying, "stocks took a nosedive as the war with Dawitan turned chemical. Our ships and troops stand ready to defend Emperor James XII," Otra switched off the broadcast.

"What the devil is going on?" Carmen demanded.

"I'm still tracing up to the point of divergence from the original history," Otra said, "So far, well, it's what you can see. We now have a money-based system, there's a war with my mother's home world, and our government isn't just imperial – it's been in place for quite a while. James XII is the Emperor of both Earth and Terra. I can't figure out who conquered whom, or whether it was a mutual decision, to merge the governments from the two universes."

"Marisol, Levi, help Otra," Carmen said, "Kevin, do any quick maintenance on the time ships that you need. Get Deirdre to assist. I want all three ships ready to return at a moment's notice. Sheilagh, Rick, Tom, you're elected to go back, and feel free to do a little investigating into the changes if there's time. Get Boris and Crystal in here in case anyone needs a quick disguise," her Communicator chimed in her ear, and she answered it, "Yes, Bryce," she said to Bryce Unger, the man she reported to, "we know about it. We're not sure yet where the problem is. All right, Calavicci out."

Everyone stared at her for a second, "I know this day's been long already, but it's only going to get longer. I take it we've got wiped families."

"Surprisingly few," Otra said, "My parents never wed, but that's as far as that issue goes. But, uh, Boris may be interested."

Carmen engaged her Communicator again, "Boris, Conference Room four – and bring a PADD. And bring Crystal and Deirdre with you."

They arrived a few minutes later, "Uh, what is the trouble?" he asked.

"You haven't been in contact with Earth recently, eh?" Otra asked.

"No, I've been looking over notes, mainly."

"Take a gander," Otra said, getting an image projected onto the wall. It was a distinguished looking man, but he looked cruel. He was with a woman – but it was not possible to tell whether she was a high-priced escort or someone of more importance.

"Who's that with my wife?" Boris asked.

"That's the Emperor James XII, of Earth and Terra," Otra said, "Your wife is now Empress Consort Darragh."

"Excuse me?"

"Something got jiggered," Kevin explained.

"The – it appears there was some sort of a merger by the governments of our side of the pond and the mirror," Marisol said, "I am guessing it happened in the 2600s."

"Holy moley," Boris said.

"We may need you and Crystal for disguises," Carmen said.

"Doctor Castillo, will you assist?" he asked.

"Not until after we have the points of divergence mapped out," Carmen said, "I thought all of these were purely otric events. What the _hell_ happened?"

=/\=

Rick beckoned over to Sheilagh as they left the meeting, "You ready to go back?" he asked.

"I don't know. It was terrible, and I haven't really made my mental peace with it yet."

"These trips can be. I, I'm sorry this one was so rough. But I think you need to see just how ugly the original history can be."

"I'm not so sure I needed to see it quite so close up and personally gory."

"Unfortunately, this is the job."

"No wonder you have your honeys," she said, "Do you think we caused any of the problems?"

"I can't say. It sounds like it's the other two expeditions. But I wouldn't rule us out quite yet. We went back the furthest, so we had the greatest potential to cause damage. You can, uh; we can help a little, and check news stories about Kent State in 1970. You saw the reporter there. There's bound to be a lotta historical records. We can compare them to the master time file."

"I just don't wanna see any bloody pictures," she said.

"Fair enough."

=/\=

 _Slow down._

 _Slow down._

 _Slow down._

 _Slow down._

 _S is for "Save it"_

 _T is for "Take it slow"_

 _O is for "Oh, no!"_

 _P is for "Please, please, don't go!"_

\- The Jackson Five (The Love You Save)

12


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

 _The love you save may be your own..._

 _Some day you may be all alone..._

 _Stop it!_

 _Save it, girl!_

 _Baby! Ooh!_

 _You better stop the love you save may be your own_

 _You'd better stop! The love you save may be your own!_

 _Please, please_

 _Or someday, someday baby,_

 _You'll be all alone_

\- The Jackson Five (The Love You Save)

=/\=

Rick and Sheilagh sat down in his office and were about ready to get down to business when there was a door chime. It was Tom, "Am I interrupting anything?" he drawled.

"No, of course not," Sheilagh said, "We were just about to start looking at news stories from Kent State, and compare them to the master time file."

"Oh," he said, "I, I think on my end of things, it's a more or less foregone conclusion where the difference is."

"Really?" Rick asked.

"Yeah. We, uh, there was a woman killed right in front of us," Tom said.

"That's not necessarily a change, yanno," Rick pointed out.

"I know. It's just; it feels like it _should_ be what's wrong," Tom said.

"I know what you mean," Sheilagh interjected, "I mean, I _know_ I was supposed to see four people get killed, and a bunch of other people wounded. And I did, but it still feels off."

"Any handle on who the woman was in 2026?" Rick asked.

"Not a clue," Tom replied, "This is, the uniforms they wore, most of them were in bad shape. Name patches were torn off or partly missing. And I know there were people who stole others' uniforms, so a guy like me could be wearing a uni with the name _R. Daniels_ sewn on the arm patch."

"Why would anyone want to do that?" she asked.

"They usually also killed the uni's owner, and stole his or her ration card," Tom explained, "There are millions of people starving in this era."

"My God," she said, "It's hard to think of them as the same species as the people I saw marching in 1970. A little over fifty years later, and it's all so changed."

"It's right around the twentieth century when things start to really speed up," Rick pointed out, "Head into the 1600s and the styles don't change much, and people are still riding horses and reading by candlelight, a good two hundred years later."

"The whole thing is strange," Sheilagh said.

"It can be a lot to process," Rick admitted, "And I'm sorry we won't be able to really sit and talk. I know how you're feeling. I was a basket case after the first time I went out, and I didn't even see anybody get shot," he paused, "Shall we look at the news stories?"

"Sure," Tom said.

Sheilagh fiddled with her PADD, "Looks like there were four killed, and nine wounded, on May fourth, 1970."

"Who are the dead?" Rick asked, pulling up the master time file on his own PADD.

"Uh, the dead are Jeffrey Miller, Sandra Scheuer, William Knox Schroeder and Christine Ellen Hynde," she said.

Tom was also looking at the master time file on his own PADD, "There's the issue right there."

"But there are four dead," she insisted.

"Three are right," Rick said, "But Hynde shouldn't be there. Allison B. Krause should be there instead."

=/\=

"It's very difficult to find any independent accounts of the rally where Colonel Green gave the order to drop the bomb in 2026," Marisol complained.

"No casualty reports," Levi concurred.

"Right. But there might not be," Otra said, "I doubt they'd have occasion to report on the shooting death of some low-level recruit. Let's cast our net a bit more widely. Check for, let's see, any morgue records, any census data, any information on ration cards or weapons assignments or troop deployments."

There was a door chime, "Any luck?" it was Carmen.

"Nothing yet, and with a bare bones description, that's not helping things," Marisol stated.

"Yeah, brown hair, aged somewhere between thirty and fifty, possibly older, Caucasian, that only narrows it down to a few million human women," Otra joked.

"Well, keep at it," Carmen said.

"We do have a bit of good news," Marisol said.

"I can use all the good news you've got," Carmen said.

"The 2267 mission doesn't seem to have made any changes whatsoever," Marisol said.

"Really?"

"Yes," Otra said, "We were right – there is definitely a melding of governments here and on the other side of the pond. But it happens later, in 2762."

"Ah, the year when crossing over between the universes becomes easier, and more common," Carmen said.

"Yes, it's the era of the first successful pulse shots," Otra said.

"So we don't need to send _Audrey_ out again. That's good," Carmen engaged her implanted Communicator, "Kevin, how's everything coming along?"

"Good. Deirdre and I are done with _Jack_ , and ready to move onto _Audrey_ ," he responded.

"Don't bother. We don't need _Audrey_. Just the _Wells_ and _Jack_."

"Good thing," Kevin said, "The old girl needs a rest."

"Let me know when you're ready. Calavicci out," Carmen turned her attentions back to the three people in the room with her, "Looks like _Jack_ can go at any time. Let's concentrate on that dead woman in 2026. Any ideas, no matter how far-fetched, well, throw them against the wall. They just might stick."

=/\=

"So we have a one-to-one exchange, it looks like," Rick said, "Let's see what Christine Ellen Hynde did in the original history. Is she in government, does she go into banking? There's gotta be some reason why the government system is so radically changed, and we have money again. Maybe she's the reason."

Tom clicked around a bit, "No," he finally said, cautiously, "It's not like that at all."

"Politics?" Sheilagh asked.

"Not even close – she was a singer. She also, uh, played guitar and wrote songs," Tom said.

"What the hell?" Rick asked.

"She went through a few groups, finally settling on _The Pretenders_ ," Tom said, "There's a string of hits, uh, _Brass in Pocket, Precious_ , uh, _Time the Avenger_. There's more, see for yourself."

"Carmen shoulda hired the music guy after all," Rick said.

"Maybe. Maybe it's just some fluke," Sheilagh offered.

"Possibly. Huh, I can't say what the deal really is. Did some operative from the other side do this, kill Hynde instead of Krause? Did they kill that unknown woman in 2026?" Rick asked rhetorically.

"Or did all of this happen just _because_ we were there? I mean, Kevin and me, we were standing in the back row," Tom said, "If this woman coulda stood in the back row, maybe no one woulda heard her crying and shot her."

"How does Hynde's death matter?" Sheilagh asked, "What does this singer have to do with economics or government?"

"Krause – it's Krause we should be concerning ourselves with," Rick said, "Not Hynde. I think she's a dead end. We need to trace Krause."

Sheilagh tapped on her PADD, "Okay, current records, outside the master time file say that she married Louis Norton. They have one son, uh, James. Worked as," she paused as she read to herself, "as an activist for migrant laborers in California. Along with Diane Evans and Sherry Wilson, she founded _Migrant Rights Action Continuing Legal Education group_ , known as _MIRACLE_. Wrote a book on the plight of migrant workers called _The Rape of the Grape_. And she died in 2026."

"Same year as my mystery gal dies," Tom said, "Got any pictures?"

"Sure. Here's one from the founding of _MIRACLE_. Holy cow, I met her cofounders," Sheilagh said.

"Look them up in the original history, Tom," Rick said.

Tom complied, "Uh, Sherry Wilson gets her Master's in English Lit at Bentley and teaches high schoolers in Western Massachusetts. Diane Evans marries, uh, Roy Kamen and raises two kids. I don't have anything on her working outside the home at all."

"There's another bit about Allison Krause," Sheilagh said, "In 2011, she and Annette Bradley Pollan testify at a Congressional hearing in favor of allowing illegal aliens to matriculate full-time at colleges and universities without fear of being deported."

"Bradley? Photos?" Rick asked. Sheilagh showed him and, sure enough, it was Windy. She was forty-one years older and wearing eyeglasses, but it was definitely her.

"We still don't have the connection," Sheilagh said.

"It must happen a lot later," Tom said, "So that's Krause, eh?"

"No, that's Windy. I mean, Annette," Rick said, "Here, this one's Krause. That's not our dead soldier, is it?"

"No," Tom said, "But there are a lotta people who died that year, and not just in the nuke attack on Nigeria."

"All right, let's trace descendants, and not just of Krause," Rick said, "We should be checking Wilson, Bradley and Evans as well."

"And let's check Hynde, too," Tom said, "Maybe see if a missing descendant pulls it all together."

Rick engaged his implanted Communicator, "Carmen? Yeah, we can see the start of the divergence. The wrong girl was killed at Kent."

"I see," she said.

"Carmen, the woman who died was a singer. So I am wondering," Rick said, "if there's any connection to what happened in '59 when those three singers were originally saved from the Clear Lake plane crash?"

"Possibly," she allowed, "Dammit, once this is fixed, I'll have to hire HD Avery, the music guy. And I can tell already that he'll be a pain."

"If you need him, well, I suppose we'll muddle through," Rick said.

"I'll suffer, but not silently," Carmen said.

"I have never known you to suffer in silence."

=/\=

 _I'm the one who loves you!_

 _I'm the one you need!_

 _Those other guys will put you down as soon as they succeed._

 _Stop! The love you save may be your own, baby_

 _You'd better stop it, stop it, stop it girl!_

 _Or someday you'll be all alone._

 _The way they talk about you_

 _They'll turn your name to dirt._

\- The Jackson Five (The Love You Save)

12


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

 _Stop! The love you save may be your own!_

 _Don't cha know don't cha know. Someday baby you'll be all alone._

 _(Wait a while) Those other guys will put you down as soon as they succeed._

 _Stop! The love you save may be your own!_

 _Darling_

\- The Jackson Five (The Love You Save)

=/\=

Another secret meeting was held, but this time it only had three people in it – the Perfectionists' Agents who had observed the three training trips.

"Consequences will be rather unpleasant if security is breached," Began the leader, as a kind of menacing version of a greeting, "We're not here to chitchat. What's our status?"

"Operatives within the Temporal Integrity Commission are fine, as are we three, of course. After that, things are tricky," said one of the other voices.

"It's the only bit of technology we haven't got," said the third voice, "The means to keep our people extratemporal – outside of any temporal changes – that technology has proven elusive."

"We'll need to do something about that. I'll see if the developer of trichronium and the Temporal Enzymatic Drive can invent a means for us to do that," said the leader.

"Maybe we won't need to do that," said the second voice.

"Oh?" asked the third.

"What if we just take it?" asked the second.

"That would be stealing," said the third.

"If it's for our worthy cause, it'll be all right," said the leader.

"I don't know …."

"Don't lose your nerve now," said the second.

"You are committed," said the leader, "Any consequences that fall against any of us will fall on _all_ of us. It'll be as if you yourself committed the act, even if you have a perfect alibi, and even if you object."

"I don't want to be tarred with that brush," said the third voice, "I am here to help out humanity, not to commit or condone acts of petty larceny."

"The means are necessary in order to achieve our goals," said the leader.

"So the end justifies the means, eh?" said the third voice, "I don't buy that."

"You forget where you are," said the second voice.

"I remember all too well," said the third.

"Now, now, let's not make any rash decisions," said the leader, "Let's go over the issues that have cropped up."

"There's not much to tell," said the third, "I went to 2026 Bogotá as requested. I saw their two Agents, and we watched the war begin. The only possible irregularity is that a whiny recruit was shot."

"A pariotric event?" asked the leader.

"No – at least, I don't think so. I don't believe it was one of those instances where we can change history. I strongly suspect it was purely otric – that, either way, the timeline would not be appreciably affected. Certainly not like this," The third voice said.

"Maybe," The leader said, "My experience on the 2267 _NCC-1701_ appears to have been purely otric. There were, possibly, a few minor irregularities. But it's just like taking one route home versus another one. It usually doesn't matter much in the grand scheme of things."

"Well, we know that there was a definite pariotric change in 1970 Ohio," The second voice said, "Hynde for Krause. It shouldn't have this much impact, but it does."

"Thoughts on how to proceed?" the leader asked.

"Send me back to Kent and I'll fix it," said the second voice.

"But you don't know _why_ things changed," The third voice pointed out.

"Actually, that's completely correct," said the leader, "For now, let's wait for the Temporal Integrity Commission, and see what they do."

"That might take a while," Complained the second voice.

=/\=

"What have you got?" asked Carmen. She'd come to Rick's office, where Sheilagh and Tom still were.

"We have the obvious difference with the different death," Rick said, "It's like this. Krause, because she survives, becomes an activist for the rights of migrant workers. Her pals, also from the shooting, join her. It's tough to say who causes what, or starts what, but because she's asked to testify before Congress about illegals, my money's on her."

"Very funny, now that we apparently have money again," Carmen said, "Can you tell if any of this eventually leads to the big changes we've seen?"

"We started off looking at the development of Warp Drive fourteen years too early," Tom said, "It looks like it's due to an absence, rather than a presence. At least, that's our theory."

"See, we couldn't find anyone who'd made it happen more quickly. Zefram Cochrane doesn't work alone, but the engineering team didn't change as a result of the Krause-Hynde switch. So it was something else, which led us to the idea of something being missing," Sheilagh explained.

"You do realize that proving an absence is considerably more difficult than proving a presence?" Carmen asked.

"Understood," Rick said, "But these are the cards we were dealt. We came up with; maybe there was some sort of distraction that prevented Cochrane from getting the job done early."

"So we traced Hynde's descendants," Tom said, "She had two daughters. Her second daughter had twin boys in 2011 and a daughter in 2020."

"And?" prompted Carmen.

"And that granddaughter and Cochrane knew each other, in Bozeman, Montana. We are thinking that, well, we don't know it for certain, but we think he liked her," Sheilagh said.

"Enough to delay Warp Drive development for _fourteen years_?" Carmen was incredulous.

"We also found that Colonel Green offered a reward for whoever broke the light-speed barrier, so there was an incentive. Cochrane tried to claim the reward, but it was never provided," Rick said.

"We can't tell if the offer of the bounty was made because of what happened at Kent, or due to what happened at the 2026 rally, or both," Tom said.

"I suspect the reward was more of a factor, than the lack of a girl," Carmen said. She then answered her implanted Communicator, "Ah, Otra, what have you got?" there was a pause, "You're sure? All right, let's head back to Conference Room four. Calavicci out."

"Hmm?" Rick murmured.

"I'll tell you at the meeting," Carmen said.

=/\=

Now it was all of them, together, standing room only, "We've had an interesting day," Carmen began, "We'll need to make two corrections. First, Rick and Sheilagh will return to Kent State and will do nothing but observe. We'll consider everything cleared once Allison Krause, and not Christine Ellen Hynde, is dead."

"Understood," Rick said.

"Tom and I will take the _Jack_ back to 2026 Bogotá and we will observe the bomb being dropped on Lagos. _Our_ mission will be to assure – what was her name again?"

"Phyllis Benson," Otra replied.

"Phyllis Benson," Carmen continued, "We have to make sure she lives. I am going instead of Kevin, in case I need to step in front of her or anything like that. If a doctor grabs me and takes a look, I don't have any reptilian parts or DNA to explain away. Are both ships ready?"

"They are," Kevin said.

"We'll do Temporal Integration – you know, where a few different versions of a person from different time periods are then integrated into a single person," Carmen said, "In Bogotá, that'll only be necessary for Tom here. Everyone know what you're doing? Otra, you and Marisol will monitor things from here. Boris, you and Deirdre are to check all news broadcasts, make sure the changes are underway. Maybe even try to call your wife, see if she's back to being your wife. Levi, you and Kevin are to stand by in case anyone needs a fast recall," she paused for a second, "C'mon, people! This isn't a pleasure cruise. Let's get cracking."

They scattered in all directions to do her bidding.

=/\=

"We still don't, quite, have the Krause to Hynde to modern-day connection," Sheilagh said, as she and Rick sped back in the _Wells_. This time, they were both disguised a bit. Crystal had given Sheilagh brown hair, and glasses. Rick was grey-haired, and his clothes made him look about nine kilos heavier than he really was.

"I'd say it's not absolutely necessary to have the connection," Rick said, "C'mere, you should be piloting. You can get in some practice."

"Yes, I guess I should," he got up and she sat down, "3005. There are people I know who are alive now."

"Yeah, but they're little kids, eh?" he smiled. Without the gel, he was a tad crinkly around the eyes. Crystal had enhanced that. He was meant to look more like he was a good sixty years old.

"Why aren't we circling Dawitan or something as we go?" she asked.

"We're at war with them now, remember? So around Kronos we go, until about 2000 or so. Then we'll cloak up and head to the Solar System."

"Got it. Yanno, Rick," she said, "Allison seems like, well, she seems like a better person than Chrissie. Allison fights for people's rights. Chrissie just sings and makes money."

"And art is less important?" he asked, "When the music guy is brought in, heh, I'm thinking he'll have a few things to say about that."

"Well, isn't someone who betters humanity, I mean, aren't they, uh …," her voice trailed off.

"The word you're looking for is _superior_. You're thinking that person is somehow _better_."

"Your words, not mine."

"I'm only trying to vocalize your own thoughts, Sheilagh."

"I downloaded her testimony from the Congressional Record. You wanna hear what she said?"

"I – uh, sure," he said, although he could tell this was not a good obsession for her to be cultivating in herself.

"It's, uh, just a sec," she turned up the sound on her PADD.

" _Congressman Schumer_ ," an older Allison Krause said on the recording, " _I come to you, today, because here we are, in 2011, and there is still no justice for the best and the brightest, just because they are missing some paperwork. We are not talking about an incipient terror cell here. These are future doctors and scientists, engineers and teachers. We have a rare opportunity here, to show the world just how civilized we truly are_."

" _Ms. Krause_ ," answered Congressman Chuck Schumer, " _our inquiry focuses not just on national security, but also on the economics of the proposal, on its practical enforcement, and on whether it would be good for this country. Can you address these points_?"

" _On the issue of economics, it is a matter of private scholarships and even students' own personal funding that is making it possible for most of them to attend school at all. These economic conditions do not change whether the student is a legal immigrant, or an illegal one, or is a citizen. As for its practical enforcement, isn't it better and easier if the Immigration Bureau can turn its attentions elsewhere, and look away from college campuses? And, finally, when it comes to the good of the_ _country, I offer as precedent the fact that most people settle near where they attended college. Most of my classmates from my alma mater, Kent State University, settled in Akron, and Cleveland and Canton, Ohio. The same is true – the same impulses, the same desires, these are found in immigrant students as well. A mere lack of documentation does not change this_ _"_ She paused and sipped from a glass of water, " _The economic benefits could be huge. And if these undocumented students return to their home countries, the diplomatic benefits would be off the charts. As we support and educate the people who become the ruling classes in other countries that will translate into peace here and around the globe_."

" _Your vision is admirable_ ," said Congressman Schumer, " _The chair recognizes the gentleman from the great state of Texas. Congressman Ron Paul, your questions, sir_."

Sheilagh turned off the PADD and looked at Rick, "She didn't succeed, but she _tried_. I mean, shouldn't that be rewarded _somehow_?"

=/\=

 _Kid what changed your mood  
You've gone all sad so I feel sad too  
I think I know some things we never outgrow  
You think it's wrong  
I can tell you do  
How can I explain  
When you don't want me to?  
_  
\- Chrissie Hynde and the Pretenders (Kid)

14


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

 _Kid my only kid  
You look so small you've gone so quiet  
I know you know what I'm about  
I won't deny it  
But you forgive though you don't understand  
You've turned your head  
You've dropped my hand  
_  
\- Chrissie Hynde and the Pretenders (Kid)

=/\=

Tom didn't quite know what to make of things as he piloted the _Jack Finney_ back to 2026. It wasn't like he hadn't seen mayhem and death before. He was a professional soldier, and had been so for over nineteen years, working his way up to a Colonel's rank.

When he was recruited by Kevin, he had been the head of an on-site military detachment, assigned to the Breen home world. There was a regular police force there – his unit wasn't responsible for that – they were responsible for quelling any riots and defending that planet in the event of any sort of an invasion. Currently, the only possible, viable threat from within the Milky Way Galaxy would be from the Borg. Pretty much every other species had either joined the Federation, or ignored it, or did not yet have Warp technology.

As for any threats from outside the Milky Way, there was a fleet of ships beyond the galactic barrier, standing ready. Among them, and blending in seamlessly, was the _USS Adrenaline_ , which was the top secret location of the Temporal Integrity Commission.

He was glad to be done with the Breen home world assignment. It was cold as hell there, and he had found it to be dull and monotonous, the people overly suspicious of humans, despite the putative peace between the two species.

He had moved back to Titania, his original home, to be near his aging parents. Everyone on Titania spoke with a gentle Southern drawl, as that Uranian moon had originally been settled by natives of both Carolinas. Many of them had still been a bit peeved about what they called the _War of Northern Aggression_ , and so Titania was a Southerner's paradise, replete with several different rival kinds of barbecue, cotton and peanut fields, and enough of a love for States' Rights that the moon's government had felt compelled to declare itself independent and sovereign.

His parents, Michael and Dorothy Grant, could trace their respective ancestries back to Major General George Pickett and Lady Bird Johnson.

He practically had Southern Comfort flowing through his veins.

=/\=

Levi went back to the all-important decryption. Yes, he was _supposed_ to be monitoring the two return trips. But that was a bit dull, plus he really had his mind set on decrypting the _Manifesto_ and it was so very difficult for him to shake such a deep level of concentration. Almost no one ever tried to nudge him out of it.

Kevin could see this, and took it upon himself to monitor both return trips. It wasn't that the decryption didn't interest him – for it held the attention of all of them – but he knew where the current priorities lay.

=/\=

"It looks like we're past 2350," Carmen said, reading over Tom's shoulder.

"Oh, uh, yes," he turned to face her, "So, how does this Temporal Integration work?"

"It's easy, and that's mainly because you're from this universe and so is your temporal counterpart. By that I mean the version of you that is in 2026 already. All you need to do is make any form of physical contact with yourself, and the two selves will merge. And here's the fun part – you get all the knowledge of the older version but you're the age of the younger one."

"I can see where that would be convenient."

"To be sure," she said, "Temporal Integration, by the way, does not work with the mirror universe. You know, the twenty centimeter radiation band, versus our twenty-one centimeter band. Touch your counterpart – if you have one, that is – and you'll both just shrug and walk away. But any other radiation bands – you can have a kind of limited form of integration whereby you can work together to, perhaps, solve a problem. But you don't merge, and they can all return to their own bands."

"Why is it different with the mirror?" he asked. The instrument panel read _2100_.

"I'm sure I don't know, but somehow we are related to them in a way that we aren't to the other radiation bands, not even the twenty-two centimeter band. You'd think, since the difference is the same amount, albeit in reverse, from the mirror, that we'd have similar kinship. But we just don't. Someday, some smarter mind than mine will figure _that_ one out."

"The woman who was killed, uh, what was important about her?"

"You mean Phyllis Benson, right? Well, it's not her. It's her son's daughter, although I can't say that I'm certain why it makes a difference with government, money or any of the other changes."

"And?" he prompted.

"And Leah Benson was the official Starfleet Rabbi when the _NX-01_ was launched. I wish I could say exactly why the timeline was so affected by Phyllis's death, but that's what I've got," she smiled, "How do you feel about going back to 2026?"

"I'm not loving it," he admitted, "I mean, Benson was the only person who openly said that dropping the atomic bomb was a bad idea. And she got killed for that. But how many other people were thinking that, but said nothing because they were scared?"

"In the original history, she lives."

"So she's quiet in the original history, as cowardly as the rest of them?"

"Not necessarily – maybe she was just not as loud, but still mentioned it. A bit of discretion, maybe, saved her life."

"And then nobody hears that she – or anyone else – objects to what's unfolding."

"It could even be that, which triggered the changes we saw," she said.

"Oh – I got one more question about Temporal Integration."

"Ask away, but keep in mind I'm no engineer."

"I understand," he said, "Uh, what happens with the two versions of the _Jack_?"

"Ah, yes. It's done the same way as for people – the ships touch and merge. And anyone who's on them ends up on the final, merged product. But I wouldn't recommend being on board when it happens. It's unnerving. So we'll do it when we're all on the surface, and merge your two versions as well. As for Kevin, we'll beam him back using a Temporal transporter, or time portal, and he'll be merged that way."

"I guess two versions of Kevin or me would be a problem."

"Not as much as two versions of some others would be."

=/\=

Back in 3109, Levi kept at the decryption. And then, _finally_ , he hit pay dirt. The second paragraph had forty-three words, some of which were a good ten and eleven letters long.

Nine of those words were only three letters long. Through a bit of brute force, he determined that three of them were the word _the_. As for the other six, he correctly guessed that the third word was _and_. A pair of lucky guesses got him _has_ and _too_. The word _has_ was even represented twice. But the last two were elusive. He finally thought of what could possibly be the worst three-letter word ever, and came up with _war_.

And he was right.

Only thirty-five words to go.

=/\=

In her spare time, and with less of an intense single-minded purpose, Deirdre also worked on the decryption. It would be a while before the news broadcasts changed in any way, so she was also free to play with the file.

Sensing that the paragraph was one long string of negativity, she had also found the word _war_. But she hadn't stopped there, and had also found words like _slaughtered, suffering, pain, disease, poverty, starvation_ and _force_.

She would have shared her findings with Boris, but he was nowhere to be found.

=/\=

 _All my sorrow, all my blues  
All my sorrow_

 _Shut the light, go away  
Full of grace, you cover your face  
_  
\- Chrissie Hynde and the Pretenders (Kid)

9


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

 _Kid gracious kid  
your eyes are blue but you won't cry  
I know angry tears are too dear  
you won't let them go_

\- Chrissie Hynde and the Pretenders (Kid)

=/\=

Marisol couldn't be found, either.

They were in her office, "I missed you," he said, as he nibbled on her neck.

She chuckled, "What happened while I was out?"

"Oh, not much. There was a slight incident in the cafeteria. One of the Vulcan women almost choked on an almond. I performed the Heimlich Maneuver – an oldie but a goodie."

"Mouth to mouth?" she asked, pouting a little.

"No, no, it's like this, Darling," he got behind her and placed his hands below her breasts, then brought his hands together and pushed down on her ribcage a little sharply. Then he bit a little on her earlobe and grabbed at her breasts.

"Is the finish a part of the treatment?"

"No, Sweetheart. Didn't you study it at Europa Medical School?"

"I must've been out that day."

"You know," he said, "until the timeline is restored, I am a single man."

"I see."

"It seems such a pity to restore that piece of the timeline. She could be happy with James the eighteenth or whatever number he was."

"Twelfth. And that photograph wasn't exactly of a happy woman. She wasn't even smiling a little."

"My angel, that is how she smiles," he then answered his implanted Communicator, "Yes, of course, Deirdre. I'll be back in a moment. Yarin out."

"Back to checking news broadcasts," he said, "When I would much rather be with you."

"It's more fun than my monitoring."

"Most definitely. And, if I were still not married, you and I could get married, move into my house, chase each other all day long."

"I wouldn't want to live on Kronos."

"Then we'd get a bigger place on Cardassia," he said, "Trade up from the love nest I got you."

"Hmmm."

"We could get a place with a pool," he said. His implanted Communicator chimed again. He sighed, "News broadcasts for me. And monitoring awaits you."

=/\=

Deirdre stared at her PADD a few times. The second paragraph was getting closer. So far, this is what she had:

 __ _ slaughtered _ _ _ the _. Suffering has _ _ _ _ _. Pain, disease, poverty and starvation _ all _ _ _ _ _. War has _ the _ _, _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ the _._

There were three two-letter words. She guessed _by_ and that worked for all of them. A one-letter word was _a_. And so the paragraph was improved, to:

 __ _ slaughtered _ _ by the _. Suffering has _ _ by _ _. Pain, disease, poverty and starvation _ all _ _ by _ _. War has _ the _ _, _ _ a _ _ _ _ _ the _._

And now she was stuck.

Boris walked in, looking a bit red in the face, "What do you think of this?" she asked, showing him the PADD.

He knew what she was asking about, "Huh. You have several four-letter words. Have you tried, let's see, _done, have, made, been, seen, wars_ , and, um, maybe _PADD_?"

"Okay," she said, "And, so far, the news is about the same. Apparently there's a new opera, called _Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra_. It's sung in Klingon and stars, uh, HD Avery."

"Interesting. Perhaps I can take my wife to a performance. When she, uh, becomes my wife again."

"Assuming there is such an opera once the timeline's restored," Deirdre went back to clicking, "Ah, it looks like _been_ was a good choice. You're pretty good at this." 

"Thank you. Now, let's see if there are any changes yet."

=/\=

Back in 2026, Carmen was waiting for her uniform to be spat out by the replicator. She was thinking about HD Avery a bit, too, but in the context of hiring him to travel in time, not for Klingon opera. She shook her head involuntarily. She didn't want to admit that she needed him, but he just didn't seem like someone who she could trust with a time ship. Grant, sure. Daniels, of course. Bernstein, probably. Castillo, most likely. But Avery? No. He'd have to take time portals, or hitch a ride with one of the others, at least until he'd proven he was reliable. As for building more ships, it was possible, to be sure. But Grant would get _Jack_ , Daniels would keep the _Wells_ , Bernstein would get _Fluxy_ and Castillo would get the _Audrey II_ once she was completed. As for any future ships, well, that would await whoever she hired _after_ Avery.

"Something wrong?" Tom drawled.

"Oh, uh, no, just thinking ahead to after we're done. Music looks like it's getting important, so I'll be hiring the music guy, Avery."

"Aha. Would there be any need for another soldier, or at least someone who could fake it well?"

"I don't know. There's Beauchaine, the survivalist. He's a friend of yours, right?"

"We know each other from playing phaseball. He could do it but he's a little slow with running."

"Good to know. Ah, I see my uni is ready. It's looking good and ratty. And an aroma, too! How thoughtful," she cringed and went into another room to put it on.

"What's the plan?"

"Find your earlier self and Kevin, and do the Temporal Integration first. Then, I suppose, we'll go into the rally. I'll switch places with Benson. If I have to start bawling, too, well, I suppose I will, although I'm not much for crying on demand."

"I'm sure you can do some method acting or something, like thinking of some sad event in your life."

"I suppose I'll come up with something."

=/\=

HD Avery, in the original timeline, had just, finally, restored his reputation after almost being kicked out of the Hyperion Academy for the Performing Arts. It wasn't for cheating, for he was a prodigy, more than capable of doing any of the school's work, on piano, guitar, voice and even percussion.

It was that he'd gotten bored and unchallenged, and so he'd stopped attending classes. He had nearly failed out, but had saved himself by simply accelerating his studies. With four times as much work, he didn't have time for the luxury of being bored, so he just barreled through and finished up, graduating _summa cum laude_ despite his earlier academic issues.

It was the boredom of sameness that had drawn him to interview at the Temporal Integrity Commission. He could write and play and sing, but things were easier in 3109, what with perfectly tuned and tempered instruments. Anyone could obtain the equivalent of a Stradivarius, as there was a factory on Iapetus that cranked them out by the dozen.

So he wanted to be elsewhere, in a place and time when perfection wasn't quite so guaranteed. He wanted to – and he wasn't so sure he went along with the idea of not introducing any anachronisms whatsoever – give people an auditory experience they had never had before. If he had met Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and the Big Bopper in 1959 – like Rick had – he would have talked shop with them. If he had met Chrissie Hynde in 1970 – like Sheilagh had – he would have tried to sing a duet with her.

For that was where he saw himself as fitting in the best – in the past. The present time, for him, was too lovely and ideal, and the people seemed to reflect that, particularly the women. Of course he was young – he had just recently turned twenty-one – but he had enough frustrations in that area already to figure that something had to give.

Perhaps a new hunting ground would better suit him.

But in this alternate timeline, he was not a student at all, but a show biz drone, pushed into the business by overeager stage parents. And the pinnacle of his success was the starring role in the new Klingon opera. Beverly and Hank Avery were justifiably proud of their little darling, but were already planning his next triumph. Perhaps he would perform for Emperor James XII and Empress Consort Darragh?

Then the _real_ money would begin to flow in.

=/\=

 _Such a drag to want something sometime  
One thing leads to another I know  
Was a time wanted you for mine  
Nobody knew  
You arrived like a day  
And passed like a cloud  
I made a wish, I said it out loud  
Out loud in a crowd  
Everybody heard  
'twas the talk of the town  
_  
\- Chrissie Hynde and the Pretenders (Talk of the Town)

10


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

 _It's not my place to know what you feel  
I'd like to know but why should I?  
Who were you then, who are you now?  
Common laborer by night, by day highbrow  
Back in my room I wonder, then I  
Sit on the bed, look at the sky  
Up in the sky  
Clouds rearrange  
Like the talk of the town  
_  
\- Chrissie Hynde and the Pretenders (Talk of the Town)

=/\=

Carmen and Tom materialized behind the same set of oil drums. They heard the sound of gunfire.

"That's the Uzi," Tom said.

They ran to the back and found his slightly younger self and Kevin. Carmen whistled, and the two of them turned around, "What the –?" asked the slightly younger version of Tom.

"Temporal Integration, am I right?" asked Kevin.

"Explain," The slightly younger Tom asked.

"There's no need. Just touch your elder counterpart over there and all will be revealed," Kevin said, "We musta failed somehow."

"Yes, we've had a pariotric change," Carmen said, "Hurry."

The slightly younger version of Tom still seemed a bit stunned by the turn of events, so the older one took the initiative, and touched an arm. The two bodies merged, nearly instantaneously, "Huh, that was strange," said the newly merged Tom.

"You're a few hours younger but have the knowledge of the older you," Carmen said, "I'm sorry we didn't warn you of the possibility earlier – we didn't think you'd need it quite so soon. Kevin, there's no time to explain the problem, just get the ships merged, beam up and temporally transport yourself to the predefined in the system for your own Temporal Integration."

"Aye, Boss," he said, and beamed up to program the two ship versions to temporally collide.

"All right, let's get in there," Carmen said to Tom.

"And make sure Benson stands in the back," Tom added.

=/\=

The Kent State Campus was alive with students. Leaflets were being handed out, telling them that the day's protest was cancelled. Ignored, the leaflets were scattered on the ground, like just so many pine needles. Someone rang the school's Victory Bell, a call to arms.

"Wait here a sec," Rick said to Sheilagh, "It'll be faster if I get myself done first, and alone."

"Um, all right."

He ran over to Windy's place. He had his own signal to himself, as he had had to do this before. It was a knock, twice, on the bedroom window.

Inside, the slightly younger version of him heard. Fortunately, Windy didn't wake. Very, very carefully, he disentangled himself from her, and grabbed his clothes. In record time, he had them on, and Temporal Integration was achieved rapidly.

Windy woke alone, and cursed him, and did not see a sixtysomething man quickly walking away.

As for Sheilagh, she stood, not too far from where she knew her slightly younger version would be. The mechanics kind of made sense to her, but the logistics just didn't seem possible. It seemed insane.

Rick got back as soon as he could, as the National Guard threw tear gas canisters. He found Sheilagh's earlier self, "Excuse me, Miss," He said to her quietly, "but can you tell me where I might find the Temporal Integrity Commission?"

"I beg your pardon?" she asked.

"Sheilagh, it's me. Just follow along, and act natural."

"Why is your appearance different?"

"I'll tell you, uh, in just a sec," he said.

The slightly older version of Sheilagh came over, and touched her slightly younger self's hand. As in 2026 Bogotá, the two bodies merged, at nearly the same time.

"That is seriously weird," she said.

"You'd better devise a signal for yourself. It makes it a little less unnerving," he said, "We'd better find cover. It's all about to start."

=/\=

Inside the hall in 2026 Bogotá, Tom and Carmen filed in with everyone else. Tom quietly pointed out Phyllis Benson to Carmen, who went over to her.

"Miss," Carmen said, "why don't you stand in the back? You could lean against the wall. You look a bit tired."

"Thank you," Phyllis said, and stood to the right of Tom. To his left was the same middle-aged man as before – the one who'd shot her when they'd last been there.

Colonel Phillip Green gave his same speech, and the same lever was pushed, with the same effect. As before, a mushroom cloud began to rise above the ruins of Lagos, Nigeria.

Next to Tom, Phyllis again began to cry, and she said, "How could we be so selfish and stupid? God, please forgive us. What the hell is wrong with us?"

Tom coughed a few times, to help drown out her voice. On his other side, he could hear the middle-aged man click something on his pistol. Carmen was standing in front of Tom, and she turned to the middle-aged man and said, "What are you planning on doing?"

"Keeping order," he said.

"I hardly think you're in any position to do such things," she said, "Let it go. It's just like the old saying that there are no atheists in foxholes. People get upset. She will adapt."

"But …."

"Oh, just let it go," A woman next to Carmen said, a little testily.

The man resheathed his weapon. As soon as they could, Tom and Carmen left the room and beamed back to the newly reintegrated _Jack Finney_.

=/\=

In 3109, Boris and Deirdre saw the news broadcast change, right in midsentence, "The war with Dawitan turned chemical today", the anchorwoman said, "and a shipment of 20,000 metric tons of aluminoplastic alloy from Dawitan was lost when two cargo ships collided. Damage estimates are in the millions. The Emperor James IV has pledged generous pensions to those left widowed and orphaned by the tragedy."

Boris engaged his implanted Communicator, "Otra, check your family. We're back to peace with Dawitan."

There was a pause, "They're back!" she exclaimed.

"Wonderful news," he said, "But we've still got money, and an Emperor, but he's James number four rather than number twelve."

"And your wife?" Otra asked.

Boris punched a few keys on his PADD and brought up a press photograph, "It appears she is still Empress Consort Darragh. Ah, well. We're just partly there. Yarin out."

"Well, they're not done yet," Deirdre said, "At least we've got peace."

"Yes," he said, "At least we've got that."

=/\=

It was the same, and not the same, at Kent State. Sheilagh and Rick saw Chrissie, Diane, Sherry and Allison walking toward the scene of the shooting. The four women didn't wave at Sheilagh, for now she looked different, and was with an older, wholly unfamiliar fellow who, if they thought about him at all, was probably her Dad.

Because Sheilagh and Rick were now behind a tree, the spot in front of a campus building was free. Chrissie went over there. She was joined by Windy, who was clearly heard to say, "God, what a jerk I was with last night!"

"Sorry," Answered Chrissie.

"Yeah, no good-bye or nothin'. I guess that'll teach me not to do so many hookups."

"Then it was educational," Chrissie replied.

As one, the National Guard soldiers knelt down. Rick could see Sheilagh trembling and put an arm around her. She opened her mouth, but he clapped his hand on her face, _hard_ , to stifle any sound, as Chrissie, and Windy, and Sherry, and Diane all ducked, and Allison B. Krause, who had just said, " _Flowers are better than bullets_ ", did not, and she fell, mortally wounded, just like in the original history.

=/\=

Deirdre and Boris noticed it first. The news broadcast changed again, and this time the anchorwoman said, "A new opera, sung entirely in Klingon, opened today at the Kronos Opera House. _Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra_ tells the story of two rivals who figure out a way to work together. Starring in the opera, and making his debut, is Paj Terris, a Witannen. When asked whether a non-Klingon should be singing lead in a Klingon opera, reaction on Kronos was mixed."

Deirdre shut off the broadcast, "Boris, you might want to call home."

"Yes, yes, of course," he engaged his implanted Communicator, "Yes, hello, Darling. No, there's no special reason I'm calling. Just to, to tell you that I love you. Pick up Cornish Game Hens? Yes, absolutely. Good-bye, dearest."

=/\=

A secret meeting was convened, now that the timeline was fully restored, "Our missions were a success," Announced the movement's leader. No sense in telling everyone about how things had changed, as it was all back to what it had been, "But we do have one small issue, with not being able to protect our Agents temporally. We'll need the temporal force field technology."

"And how do you propose we obtain that?" asked an anonymous voice.

"Take it," said an Agent, the second voice from the earlier meeting.

"I will not be a party to petty theft," said the other Agent. Even with the vocal masking, it was obvious that that voice belonged to the third voice from before. The objection remained strong.

The leader isolated the call, so as to only speak with the compliant Agent, the one who had wanted to simply take the needed technology, "Impressions?" asked the leader.

"This cannot stand," said that Agent.

"Agreed," said the leader, "We can get another Agent when we need to, or use one of our operatives within the Temporal Integrity Commission. In the meantime, consider the order to have been given."

"Got it," said that Agent.

The leader switched the call back so that everyone could hear, "We will work to develop the necessary technology. And let's work on the Temporal Integrity Commission's new Agents. We may be able to change their minds. In fact, I suspect that they will be rather susceptible to our ideas."

=/\=

 _Maybe tomorrow, maybe someday  
Maybe tomorrow, maybe someday  
You've changed your place in this world  
You've changed your place in this world  
_  
\- Chrissie Hynde and the Pretenders (Talk of the Town)

12


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

 _Oh but it's hard to live by the rules  
I never could and still never do  
The rules and such never bothered you  
You call the shots and they follow  
I watch you still from a distance then go  
Back to my room, you never know  
I want you, I want you but now  
Who's the talk of the town?_

\- Chrissie Hynde and the Pretenders (Talk of the Town)

=/\=

Timeline fully restored, the department convened in Conference Room six, which had enough room for all. Carmen spoke, "I've got space and orders to hire three more full-time equivalent travelers. I want travelers, and not engineers, as I think the need is greater there. With the unexpected importance of musician Christine Ellen Hynde – not to mention the earlier issues we had with musicians Jiles P. Richardson, Ritchie Valens and Buddy Holly – one of the FTEs will definitely be musician and musical historian HD Avery," she sighed a little, a tad annoyed but resigned to the need, "I'm open to suggestions regarding the other two. The only people on the table are the ones I've already interviewed, who are: Daniel Beauchaine, Rajesh Kumar, Teresa Marquez, Elston McCoy, Polly Porter, Carol Tilson and Alice Trent."

"Maybe someone else who can fight," Tom said, "It wasn't really needed in Bogotá, but if that guy hadn't succumbed to peer pressure and withdrew, it coulda been fisticuffs or worse."

"That would be your friend Dan Beauchaine, right?" Tom nodded, and Carmen continued, "Perhaps. Since the situation ended up being an almost diplomatic one, or at least it was resolved in that manner, I could also see adding someone with a psychological bent, like Polly Porter."

"Given the fact that Boris's wife was the Empress Consort for a while there," Otra said, "it might be good to bring in someone who can comfortably and effortlessly observe protocols."

"That would be Alice Trent," Kevin said, "'Cause God knows I don't know what a fish fork looks like."

They all laughed, a little nervously, "If we get more travelers, we'll eventually need more ships," Rick pointed out, "I know you said you didn't want to hire anyone but a traveler, but you might need an engineer, too."

"That's Tilson and Kumar," Carmen said, reading off a PADD, "Their credentials are fairly similar."

"Who's left on the list?" asked Deirdre.

"Elston McCoy, Gregory Shaw and Teresa Marquez," Carmen said, "but I won't be hiring her."

"Why?" asked Levi, and it was the first clear indication that he'd been paying attention at all.

"She is a medical doctor," Boris said, "And _Marisol_ is already working here," His voice lingered on her name, just a little.

"And Shaw and McCoy?" asked Crystal.

"McCoy is an expert in ancient sciences. He can cast a horoscope, even. But the times we've been going to haven't been quite that primitive. And Shaw is an animals specialist. So far, we've had no need for him, either," Carmen said, "That might change, if we have to go earlier," she looked around the room, "Sheilagh, you've been quiet."

She was quiet, still, for a while, before speaking, "I, I just, I need to tell you, I have seen people killed today and yesterday. And now we're all just talking about who to hire, and it's almost as bad as if we were all going on about where to go to lunch."

"Sheilagh –" Carmen began, but Tom cut her off.

"If I may, it was, uh, a good eighteen or nineteen years ago that I was in Basic Training. But it took two years after that before I saw any real action. I was on Bajor, and there was this guy who'd stolen a phaser out of a storage bin and just started shooting. It was a few days before we caught him, and I saw a coupla my buddies breathe their last right in front of me. It was scary, and it was awful and it kinda shook me to my core, if that makes any sense."

"It does," she said quietly.

"And there were guys afterward, who'd even be joking. I got in a fight with one of 'em about it. Carmen can attest to that – she's seen my military record. I spent a few days in the Brig for that. But yanno what that guy told me?"

"N-no."

"He said that they do it as a kind of, a defense mechanism," he paused, "It's not that they don't feel for the guy or don't respect him or anything. It's that it's the only way they can keep going."

=/\=

Safely back in her office, meeting over, Carmen engaged her implanted Communicator, "Calavicci to Henry Avery, of Krios Prime."

While she waited for the call to be answered, she busied herself with a tiny bit of straightening up. She had a small jar of pebbles and beach glass from Risa, and the arrangement wasn't _just so_ , so she started to move the pieces around a bit.

"Hello?" came a woman's voice on the other end of the line, after a few minutes.

"May I speak with Henry Avery, please?"

" _Hank_!" yelled the woman, barely covering her own Communicator, voice shrill in Carmen's ear.

Another few minutes passed, and a man with a gruff voice answered, "Yeah, I'm Hank Avery."

"Oh, uh, I think I want your son."

"Got it. _Little Hank_!" he yelled, also doing a poor job of covering up his Communicator, " _Pick up_!"

Another few minutes elapsed, "Uh, hey."

"You remember me? I'm Admiral Carmen Calavicci."

"Temporal Integrity Commission, right?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Funky job," he said.

"Do you, uh, do you want the, uh, the funky job? Uh, the traveling job – will you take it?"

"Can I live there?" he asked.

"We have facilities."

"Okay. Lemme just do my gig tonight and I can get there tomorrow."

"Very well, Calavicci out."

=/\=

Truth was, HD couldn't wait to get out of there. But he'd promised to spin tunes at a club that night, and knew there was no time to find a replacement for him.

At home, he was Hank and Bev's one and only, and they didn't quite know what to do with him. They were farmers, practical, stern, conservative folk, who thought of music as a barely tolerable diversion, appropriate for a few scattered occasions, such as weddings. Certainly it was not the stuff of careers.

At the ungodly early age of two, he was pounding out simple rhythms with a wooden spoon on a stainless steel pot. When he got into his first school, a perceptive teacher gave him drumsticks, and then got him pounding on a piano, and then graduated him to a guitar when his fine motor coordination improved.

His grades were average, except for music and art – he was also a more than barely passable sketch artist and watercolor painter – but his arts grades were at the genius level. It wasn't until his teachers threatened to involve the authorities if he wasn't immediately transferred to a school for the musically gifted that his parents finally relented, and allowed just that.

And so he had gotten to the Hyperion Academy for the Performing Arts, and had added flute and musical history to his growing repertoire. He was in demand as a music spinner for parties, and as a singer or instrument player in student musical and acting productions.

But all of these diversions and extracurricular activities were taking their toll. He barely passed Applied Physics, a course he'd hated, and was forced to hold back on his extras, a course of action that he hated even more. Late hours and an endless stream of obligations threatened to burn him out, and he was temporarily kicked out of school in order to get his act together. He spent much of his junior year sleeping in class by day, and making the social scene by night.

Making it – that was not strictly correct – aside from striking out with virtually every girl he met, for he was arrogant and impatient in that area – he _was_ the social scene.

The only thing that got him to finally pass his classes was to take a huge dose of schoolwork. Being incredibly busy meant an addiction to caffeine but at least he got through, and was able to finish strong.

His parents, appalled, had tried just about everything to get him to behave. He'd gotten a double dose, inherited, of their stubborn streaks. They gave up. So far as they were concerned, he was impossible to reason with, but they saw the mote in his eye all the while ignoring the beams in their own. Once they heard that he'd gotten what sounded like a good, steady job – and it wasn't strictly musical in nature – and he could live apart from them, they could scarcely contain their enthusiasm, and eagerly offered to help him pack.

=/\=

 _What Do You Get When You Fall in Love?  
A Guy with a Pin to Burst Your Bubble.  
That's What You Get For All Your Trouble.  
I'll Never Fall in Love Again.  
I'll Never Fall in Love Again.  
_  
\- Bobbie Gentry (I'll Never Fall in Love Again)

10


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

 _What Do You Get When You Kiss a Guy?  
You Get Enough Germs to Catch Pneumonia.  
After You Do He'll Never Phone Ya.  
I'll Never Fall in Love Again.  
I'll Never Fall in Love Again._

 _Don't Tell Me What Is All About  
'cause I've Been There and I'm Glad I'm Out,  
Out of the Chains, the Chains That Bind You.  
That Is Why I'm here to Remind You.  
_  
\- Bobbie Gentry (I'll Never Fall in Love Again) 

=/\=

A few weeks passed, and things seemed quiet. Bringing in HD Avery was less painful than Carmen had initially feared. He arrived on the promised day and the only odd thing he had asked for was the ability to play music directly through his implanted Communicator, straight into his left ear, if he so wished. Carmen had conceded the point, as soon as she'd extracted a promise from him that he would pay attention when he needed to. He had agreed, and so she was optimistic that he would be relatively cooperative. Certainly, he couldn't be any less cooperative and off-the-charts distracted as Levi.

As for Levi, he was still pounding away at the decryption. And now he was working alone, for Carmen had made it clear that he and the other engineers would need to work a lot harder and faster to get the _Flux Capacitor_ up and running. Deirdre, being a sensible person, had dropped other things in order to devote her time to retrofitting _Fluxy_. Plus, she had a new boyfriend, and wanted to spend her time with him. It was in her best interests to work hard all day so that she could go out most nights. Bruce Ishikawa was far more appealing than any old decryption.

But Levi had no such distractions. He worked and worked, sometimes through the night, often neglecting food and basic hygiene, all in the service of the almighty decryption. He and HD had barely said three words to one another, and finally Avery tracked him down, at least to be polite. He found Levi in the little courtyard garden, tapping away furiously, "Uh, whatcha doin'?" asked HD.

"Huh? Oh, uh, there's this secret message. It isn't all decrypted yet. I can't figure out, there's a part that's, it's like, there's six different symbols, but there are some others, close ones. It's subtle. And that's not even the paragraph I'm working on."

"Can I see?"

"Uh, okay."

HD took a look, "Your, um, your big paragraph with the six letters and the offshoots? Maybe they're, uh, maybe they're notes."

"Notes?"

"Sure, look, um, ba ba ba _ba_ ba ba," he sang, voice going up slightly higher on the fourth note.

"So? I mean, we need the words."

"Well, sure," said HD, "But notes are letters; it's A through F."

"But there are these other variations."

"Hmm. Maybe they're sharps and flats, corresponding to more letters. And your second paragraph, the one you're pounding on? Maybe that first word, the one with six letters? Uh, maybe it's _people_."

Levi tried, "Nope. Deirdre's better at this," he admitted.

"Why isn't she working on this, then?"

"I dunno. She leaves early most of the time."

"I bet she's got better things to do than decrypt," HD said, "Hell, it's a Friday night. Everyone's single but Boris, right?"

"I dunno. I never noticed."

"We should be doin' the town."

"Uh, what town?"

"I dunno. Something fun," HD said, "We could go to Ariel, to my old club, see what happens when Marisol and Sheilagh get a little alcohol in 'em. Maybe even Otra, too, see what color those flowers turn, if yanno what I mean."

"Oh," That brought Levi up short, "I don't think Otra would like to do that."

"Why, she got some boyfriend or somethin'?"

"Um, uh …."

"Maybe, uh, maybe we'll go without her," HD backpedaled a little, still unsure of the department's group dynamics, "But we'll ask her, of course. To, uh, to be polite."

"She'll say no."

"Maybe not this time."

A Ferengi came over, "Lilacs are blooming," he smiled, "Don't they smell wonderful?"

He and HD both took a big whiff. Levi did not, as he was back to being engrossed in his PADD.

"Whew!" HD fairly well yelled, "Levi, when's the last time you hit the showers?"

"Uh …."

"Go. _Please_ ," said the Ferengi, "You'll make my lilacs wilt," Even he was wrinkling his nose, more wrinkled than it naturally was.

"Von …," Levi protested.

"Really, I must insist," Von, the Ferengi, said, "It's pretty bad when you overpower lilacs in bloom. Don't you humans notice?"

"We do, brother, we do," HD said, "Hey, maybe that first word in the _Manifesto_ paragraph is _humans_."

Levi tapped a bit, " _Hot dog_! It is."

"Okay, since I, uh, I gave you that, wanna do me – and everyone else at the Temporal Integrity Commission – a huge favor, and hit the showers?"

"Do I have to?"

Von and HD, practically in unison, replied, " _Yes_."

=/\=

HD made his way to Carmen's office, "Can I come in?"

"Of course."

"I was thinking, uh, maybe the department could cut loose tonight. I mean, it's free time, I figure I don't _need_ to ask you, just figure, uh, in case you wanna come along."

"To do what?" she asked.

"I used to spin at a club on Ariel," he said, "We could all go out, have a few adult beverages, and maybe even dance or somethin'."

"Dance? I'm not so sure any of us know how."

"Maybe it's something we'll need for traveling. See, this can be justified as work! No time like the present to, uh, to get a little practice in."

"Practice? Mister Avery, if you're sent to 1695, I believe it'll be minuets."

"How do yanno they won't spin a minuet?"

She had to laugh at that, "I hardly think …."

"Look, I got Levi to hit the showers," he played his trump card.

"Holy cow," she said, "That _is_ a major coup."

"Nobody needs to stay if they don't wanna. Hell, they don't even have to come at all. But it'll be fun. I just, I think it would be good for people."

"You barely know anyone here!"

"I know when folks are tired and bored. Uh, no offense."

"Uh, hmm, all right. But no stretching this out for the entire weekend. I don't want to see suffering on Monday."

"It'll just be for tonight. For Saturday and Sunday, people are on their own."

=/\=

It wasn't difficult to collect most of the department. Deirdre was already gone, and Kevin begged off, but the rest of them were all right with it. Even Levi wanted to go, once he saw that Otra was, indeed, going. Only Rick hadn't said yes or no.

HD caught up with Rick at Rick's office, "So, are we on for tonight?"

"Oh, uh, I don't think so. I'm supposed to be meeting my sister, and then we're off to our folks for dinner."

"So you'll have a drink and leave. Hell, bring her along," Rick shot him a bit of a look, so HD hastily added, "I swear I will be a perfect gentleman. Hell, even Boris is coming. He's mostly Klingon, right? So he can smack me into submission if I get too frisky. Okay? Are we on? C'mon!"

"All right. One drink – and I mean _one_."

=/\=

The club was _loud_ , " _The X Factor_?" Carmen asked, reading off the entryway sign, "How horribly clichéd."

"Eh, I don't name 'em," HD said.

Levi was still fiddling with his PADD. At least he smelled considerably better, " _Humans have, humans have_ , what?" he read off the PADD.

Otra took the PADD from him and tried a few words, "Here, we'll all try a word or two."

Levi looked stricken, like she'd taken his favorite toy. And, in a way, she had. Otra engaged her implanted Communicator, "Deirdre!" she yelled over the din, "Can you pass to Levi's PADD whatever you got on the decryption?"

"Sure," Deirdre said. She was putting the finishing touches on chicken soup with matzoh balls – the matzoh balls were sinking and it was impossible to fix that, so she was garnishing like mad – it was the first course in the meal she was preparing for Bruce, who hadn't arrived yet. She grabbed her PADD and clicked on it, giving the command to start the transfer, which finished in a few seconds. There was a door chime, "Gotta go!" she cut the connection and opened the door, smiling broadly.

He'd brought lilacs.

=/\=

"Ah, that fills things in a lot more," Otra said. The message now read:

 _Humans have slaughtered _ _ by the _. Suffering has been _ by _ _. Pain, disease, poverty and starvation have all been borne by too many. War has been the _ _, rather than a _ _ _ _ over the _._

"Hey, are you people gonna work all night?" HD asked, "Sheilagh, you're not gonna be playin' with that old thing now, are ya? Will ya dance with me?"

"Uh, I have a headache," she said.

"Yarin, can't you fix that?" HD asked Boris.

"Huh, step into my office," he joked, and put a pair of fingers on each of her temples, "Is it very bad?"

"Not too bad," Sheilagh said.

"Maybe don't have any alcohol, all right? Doctor Castillo, will you do me the honor?" he and Marisol disappeared onto the crowded dance floor.

"C'mon, I need a honey to dance with! Crystal, baby!" HD said.

"Let me get the drinks first," she said, "Drafts good for everyone?"

"Bourbon and soda for me, please," Tom said.

"Carmen?" asked Crystal.

"Scotch, neat."

"Okay, uh, Otra, you up for this?" HD asked. He was running out of options, and dancing with the boss – who was perhaps twice his age, he figured – was a little too strange for him.

"Maybe something a little slower," she said, "Otherwise, I have bouncing chavecoi, and they don't like that."

"Sheilagh?" HD tried again.

She shook her head, "It still hurts."

"Maybe ya'll wanna go home," Tom said.

"Carmen?" HD asked – the last resort.

She heard a Communications chime in her ear and pointed to it, "I've gotta take this, sorry," she left to find a quieter spot.

He looked around, as there were plenty of other women at the club. His eyes alit on an elegant blonde who seemed to be looking for someone, "Ah, the quality just improved _considerably_ ," he said. He approached the woman, who blew past him, and went straight up to Rick.

"Dayum," Sheilagh said.

Rick just laughed, and kissed the blonde on her cheek, "Eleanor, these are most of the people I work with. This is my little sister, Eleanor Daniels."

She smiled and was gracious to all, including HD, who made a big show of bowing and kissing her hand. Even Levi looked up for a second. But it was Tom who pulled out a chair for her, "I'm glad ya'll came," he said.

"I am, too," she said, "Do you travel, like Richard?"

"I do, uh, ya'll wanna drink?"

"Sure. A Bellini, please."

Crystal returned with a waitress who had a pitcher with her and the other two drinks. He ordered for Eleanor, "Uh, anyone else want anything while we've got her here?"

Carmen returned, "Children, I'll have to cut my evening short, I'm afraid. A matter has come up," she grabbed her scotch and chugged it.

"Carmen, this is my sister."

"I see," she said, shaking Eleanor's hand, "I bet you take after the other side of your family. I'd stay and chat, but I'm afraid business awaits. Uh, kids, Monday – meeting – Conference Room six, oh eight hundred hours. Good night."

"Anything up, Otra?" asked Rick.

"Nothing that I can detect," she said, "Oh, look, Levi. I bet that word is _each_."

"They'll work through anything, it seems," Tom said to Eleanor.

"Surely there are better things to do," she replied, "So, do you have some sort of a specialty, or are you a generalist like Richard?"

"I was a Colonel in the military until maybe a month and a half ago or so," he said.

"So you use a lot of strange old weapons?" she shouted, as the music had gotten loud again.

"Yes, I had an old projectile weapon last time. I don't think I'm allowed to tell you anymore."

"Oh, that's all right. Why don't they just give you some sort of an implanted phaser?" she asked, "They're already these little things that fit under your knuckles. Why not just leave one there permanently?" she pointed under her own hand to kind of demonstrate what she meant.

"If ya'll shake my hand too hard, I might accidentally blow my own foot off."

"Huh," she said, "There's still a few bugs in the system. Good thing I'm no inventor."

"Whaddaya all do?"

"I'm a docent at the Temporal Museum on Lafa II."

"A _docent_?"

"I'm like a historical guide of sorts. Have you ever been there?"

"Not yet. I was on the Breen home world for years. They kept me busy. But maybe now I could go."

"I could, I could give you a tour," she offered.

"El, we should go soon," Rick interjected.

"Soon," she said.

"Would that be the standard tour, or are there any extras?" Tom asked.

"Extras?"

"Like dinner. Could I take ya'll to dinner?" he shouted the last sentence, but the music had unexpectedly quieted down again, so he was suddenly, embarrassingly, far too loud.

"Yes," she said quietly, "That would be lovely," Rick caught her eye, "Must dash. Richard has my info. Nice meeting everyone," she said, but it was Tom she was looking at when she said that. And then she and Rick left and Tom looked down and smiled into his bourbon.

=/\=

 _What Do You Get When You Fall in Love?  
You Only Get Lies and Pain and Sorrow.  
So, for At Least, Until Tomorrow  
I'll Never Fall in Love Again.  
I'll Never Fall in Love Again.  
_  
\- Bobbie Gentry (I'll Never Fall in Love Again)

17


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

 _Don't Tell Me What Is All About  
'cause I've Been There and I'm Glad I'm Out,  
Out of the Chains, the Chains That Bind You.  
That Is Why I'm here to Remind You.  
_  
\- Bobbie Gentry (I'll Never Fall in Love Again) 

=/\=

Sheilagh spent much of the weekend going over the same things, over and over again. This was what she'd been doing, ever since they'd returned from the second trip to Kent. Over and over, fueling her growing obsession.

She had, foolishly, recorded Allison Krause's unrealized history onto her PADD. There was more, much more, than she had shared with Rick.

Allison would have made quite an activist. _MIRACLE –_ the _Migrant Rights Action Continuing Legal Education_ group she would have founded – it would have won a ton of cases for workers' rights.

Congress would have passed a bill, signed into law by President Obama, providing a limited amnesty for migrants, in exchange for two years of service to the United States. Pardoned illegals would have taught Spanish classes, cared for children, planted trees and served as companions to the elderly. But that only would have happened, had Allison Krause lived.

For without her, _MIRACLE_ was never founded, and her friends scattered after graduation. Chrissie Hynde went on, eventually, to _The Pretenders_. Diane Evans married Roy Kamen and became a wife and mother, never working outside of her home. Sherry Wilson got her Master's in English Literature at Bentley and taught high schoolers in Western Massachusetts. And Annette Bradley had a career at the Ohio Bureau of Motor Vehicles, rising to a managerial role before retiring in 2015.

Their experiences at Kent, it seemed, had been all for naught.

=/\=

Levi continued working, squirreled away at his home on Bajor. He could have stayed at the Temporal Integrity Commission, but Otra had, at the club, told him to go home already. She was one of the only people he ever really listened to, so he had left.

His home was a jumbled mass of science fiction memorabilia, including old action figures in their original casings and framed stills from ancient classics such as the original _Twilight Zone_ television program.

He was sitting under a still showing a large man in makeup holding up a book called _To Serve Man_ when it hit him that the first sentence of the bedeviling paragraph, in its entirety, was:

 _Humans have slaughtered each other by the millions._

Excited, he started calling people. Deirdre didn't answer – that seemed strange to him, as she'd been the most interested in the _Manifesto_ , except for him – but it certainly wasn't strange for her, for Bruce was finally making his move. The sinking matzoh balls – just like his Mom made – had done the trick.

Rick's Communicator was emitting a busy tone, too, for he and Eleanor were having dinner with Steven and Chloe and Chloe was grilling them about whether Tom really was a nice guy. Carmen also wasn't answering – her chugged scotch had been joined by a few more at the Tethys Tavern, her watering hole of choice. HD, well, Levi didn't think he could help much, but he wasn't answering, either, as he'd been pressed into service to spin when the designated spinmeister had left with a patron of _The X Factor_.

Boris didn't answer; neither did Marisol. Levi didn't know that they were playing doctor at her apartment on Cardassia.

Tom was unavailable, too – he'd gone to visit his parents, and perhaps, have a better answer when his mother, inevitably, asked him if he'd been keeping company with any pretty ladies recently.

Sheilagh, obsessed with what could have been, if only Allison Krause had lived, was too distraught to answer her implanted Communicator. And as for Kevin, it was almost the eleventh month anniversary of his late wife, Josie's, death. He wasn't going to answer anything, as he lit candles, and sighed, and intermittently wept.

Otra was at a spa, having her temples rubbed by an attractive Tellarite masseur. Even the chavecoi were relaxed, turning all sorts of pastel colors, shades of pink and peach and seafoam. A chiming Communicator? There was no need to crush her mood to answer it during free time.

So Levi was left calling the last person on his list, the one he felt would be least helpful to him: Crystal.

Crystal was playing with her dog when her implanted Communicator chimed, "Ah, looking for a haircut this weekend?" she asked.

"Um, no. I got more of the _Manifesto_ ," Levi said. He immediately read her the first sentence, without even waiting to hear from her whether she actually wanted to hear any of it.

"Oh, how interesting," she commented, making it sound, to pretty much anyone but Levi, that it was anything but that.

"Yes," he said, "I'm stuck on the rest of it." 

"Can't it wait 'til Monday?" she asked.

"Well …."

"Petey, c'mon," she said.

"What?" Levi asked.

"My dog; he's gonna be a pain tonight if I don't burn off his energy now. Jack Russell terriers – they're little forces of nature."

"I wouldn't know."

"Didn't you have pets growing up, Levi?"

"No. My, uh, my mother always says we shouldn't shelter things that don't do anything for us."

"Oh, but he does!" she whistled, "Go, Petey, fetch the ball! He keeps me company, keeps me from getting lonely."

"Oh."

"Look, um, I can look the file over tonight. But later, okay? The dog and I both need to run. Sherwood out."

When the connection closed, he wasn't offended that she'd given him the bum's rush. He barely even noticed that anything had happened to which he could possibly take offense. He was excited about the word _force_ , a word she had mentioned. It fit.

=/\=

Carmen was up early on Monday, recovered, more or less, from the effects of the weekend. Her Communicator chimed, "Bryce!" she said as she made her way to her building's Transporter. "What can I do for you?"

"There's more corruption than we had initially feared," Bryce Unger said, "There was an attempt to steal the temporal force field technology over the weekend. We suspect, at least in part, that it may have been an inside job."

"How?"

"Certain codes were cracked with very little effort. Maybe only hints are being dropped, and perhaps inadvertently – I'm not ruling that out – but they are most definitely dropping." 

"When did the breach occur?"

"Friday at twenty-two hundred hours. It was an attempt at a download."

"Most of my people were at a nightclub," she said.

"And the others?" 

"It was free time, Bryce, I don't keep homing devices on them."

"Admiral, need I remind you that if that field technology is stolen, that any rival groups out there will be as protected from temporal changes as you and your people are? We'll lose one of our biggest advantages."

"I know, sir."

"Have you told your people about the other thing we found yet?"

"I'm on my way to do so now," she said, "Calavicci out."

=/\=

Once again, Conference Room six was packed. Most of the department just looked tired. The only person who really seemed to be chipper was Deirdre.

"You're in love," Otra said to her.

"I'm in _like_ ," Deirdre replied.

 _Deep like_ , thought Rick, recalling an earlier conversation.

"People, I have some interesting news," Carmen began, "Has everyone listened to the news recently?"

Most of the group shook their heads, "For a bunch of time people, current events don't seem to hold much attention for you, eh?" she quipped. She fiddled with a PADD, and projected an image onto the wall of the conference room, "Does anybody recognize this man?"

There were murmurs, but none of assent.

Carmen continued, "That is, or rather, that was, Anthony Parker. He was killed on Friday, at about nineteen hundred hours."

"And?" Kevin asked.

"And he was hard to kill, for he had stem cell growth accelerator pumping through his veins," Carmen said.

"Was it the temporary kind?" Boris asked, "We provide that for historians who travel, but it wears off in about forty-eight hours."

"No, it was what our travelers here all have been given. Doctor Yimiva from the Calafan contingent ran the test. The blend is a bit different from what our people get, but it's just as powerful and permanent."

"So it didn't come from our medical supplies, right?" Marisol asked.

"So far, the theory is that it didn't, although perhaps it was simply masked somehow," Carmen explained, "And then three hours later, there was an attempt to steal the temporal force field technology. The attempt was, it was a download, but the download was interrupted before the transfer was completed. We were very lucky that time."

"Are the incidents related?" Otra asked.

"I think we can count on that, particularly because Parker was found – Levi, you'll recognize this pattern better than anyone else – the body was found with this," Carmen projected a file onto the wall, a scanned piece of real paper. And on it was an image of the encrypted _Manifesto_.

"So he was one of their boys," Kevin said.

"Or he was targeted by 'em," Tom pointed out.

"Can I ask the icky question that no one wants to ask?" Crystal inquired, "Uh, you said he was hard to kill. Uh, how _was_ he killed, exactly?"

"It was a combination of a few things, as is pretty much necessary for killing someone with stem cell growth accelerator, assuming one doesn't wish to simply vaporize a body or shred it," Carmen said. Sheilagh and HD both cringed. Carmen added, "He was infected with Ebola virus and, while his body was undoubtedly trying to fight that, he was hit repeatedly by some sort of blunt force trauma, mostly from behind, according to the autopsy report."

" _Force_! Yes, that's it!" Levi exclaimed, and read off the _Manifesto_ 's completely deciphered second paragraph, " _Humans have slaughtered each other by the millions. Suffering has been endured by countless innocents. Pain, disease, poverty and starvation have all been borne by too many. War has been the overarching force, rather than a rare accent seen sparingly over the millennia_ _._ "

Everyone looked a little sick, "What?" Levi asked, finally noticing their discomfort.

"Parker, Levi; we are still talkin' about Parker," Kevin said.

"Oh. I just thought that the decryption would be important."

"Why do you think Parker was killed?" HD asked.

"My guess is that the _Manifesto_ group – whatever they call themselves – perhaps he didn't want to play along with them. Or maybe he screwed up somehow," Carmen ventured, "I fear there will be more incursions, more attempts to mess with history. We need to get _Fluxy_ done – yesterday. Then _Audrey II_ , and then build another one. What would you name it, Deirdre?"

She thought for a moment, "Uh, I suppose the _Elise McKenna_ ," she replied, "It's, um, the story is called _Somewhere in Time_. It's a love story; she's the heroine."

"The _Elise McKenna_ it is," Carmen said, "Kevin, Deirdre, Levi, we'll make the _Elise_ an almost exact copy of the _Audrey II_. Marisol, you'll get the _Audrey II_. HD, you'll get _Elise_. Tom, _Jack_ is yours. Sheilagh, you'll get _Fluxy_ ," she took a breath, "I am thinking we need someone to travel who can effectively and reliably reason with people. To my mind, that's Polly Porter."

"She'll need a ship. Unless you bring in another engineer, we just can't build 'em fast enough," Kevin said.

"She won't get a ship, at least not to start," Carmen said, "We can use a time portal if we must. If that other side is using a spot of violence to achieve its ends, and if it's already got stem cell growth accelerator, and it's looking to grab the temporal force field technology, I'd say that they're going to be sending out a lot more operatives. We are going to be busy folk. I will consider bringing in another engineer, but in the meantime we might be able to pressgang Von into service. I can always make nice with the Ferengi group."

"What about the _Manifesto_?" Deirdre asked.

"Everybody works on it now. But this is not to the exclusion of other things. This means _you_ , Levi. I suggest leaving the huge paragraph for last, even though it's the next paragraph in line. And no more than an hour per day is to be devoted to it. _Is that clear_? Ships and traveling, and getting HD here, and then Polly, operated on and up to speed, are top priorities," she sighed heavily, "Kids," she said with some affection, even though Kevin and Sheilagh were older than her, "I despise this. I truly do. But our collective hand is being forced. Dismissed."

=/\=

Sheilagh left without saying a word. Rick followed her, "What are you thinking about all of this?"

"I am, I am thinking that, for someone like Allison Krause, this is kind of the world she envisioned, but it also, kinda, is not," she said.

"Krause is over a thousand years ago."

"She was _important_."

"In that her death turned out to be pariotric, yes," he conceded, "But that's the only reason."

"No, it's _not_ ," she said, a little teary with frustration.

"Sheilagh, what's gotten into you?"

"It wasn't a lark. It wasn't a joke. It's all just chess pieces on a board to you," she said, "Her life could've been meaningful, and her friends' lives could've been meaningful. Instead, she's some barely remembered statistic, an event to be manipulated by this side or that one."

"Our job was to put it all back. We did that."

"But this good person had to die. And now Parker – maybe he was a good person, too. But he's another pawn on the chessboard. Shouldn't they both have had meaningful impacts?"

"I don't know," Rick said, "I don't write history."

"Oh, but you do," she said, "You do so every time you get in the _Wells_ and fly off somewhere, every time you kiss one of your honeys, every time you stand where someone else should have stood in the original history. _Every single time_ , Richard."

"I don't try to write it," he said, "I'm not in this to make pariotric changes and screw with the timeline."

"Well, maybe you _should_ be," she said, "Allison didn't deserve a meaningless death. Annette and Sherry and Diane, they don't deserve meaningless lives."

"And Chrissie? What about _her_?" Rick asked, voice rising a tad, "Did _she_ deserve death?"

"She's just a _singer_. Allison works for _people_. She tries to do good things. She tries to make meaningful change."

"And now _you_ want to make meaningful change? Sheilagh, a month ago, you didn't even know who Allison and Chrissie and all of the others even _were_. And you saw what the switch did to the timeline, or have you forgotten? Where does it end?"

"It's, just, she shouldn't have, she was so young. She shouldn't have died. Not like that, not that way."

"Sheilagh, I get it. I do," he said, "You fell in love with this, this notion, this concept of how great the alternate timeline would be, at least for this small group of people who you met. You kind of fell in love with what Allison could have been. Am I right?" He said, "But that's where it gets dangerous. You _can't_ fall in love. You _have_ to harden yourself to it, and be the good, stoic soldier. You have got to let this go, and move on, and, and understand that what happened originally is what _had_ to happen, and the rest of it, it's false. It's a lie," he sighed.

"Like the lies you tell your honeys, Rick?" She shook her head, "I can't do that," she didn't wait for his reply, and ran off to Carmen's office, leaving him standing there, stung by her remarks.

=/\=

"Yes? Come in," Carmen said, "Ah, good, Sheilagh. Kevin tells me if he and the other engineers can stay on it full time, they can get _Fluxy_ done in about ten days."

"Oh, uh, HD will like that."

"But that ship is for you," Carmen said.

"HD can have it."

"That's not the plan."

"Screw the plan, Carmen. I quit."

=/\=

 _What Do You Get When You Give Your Heart?  
You Get It All Broken Up and Battered.  
That's What You Get, a Heart That's Shattered.  
I'll Never Fall in Love Again.  
I'll Never Fall in Love Again._

\- Bobbie Gentry (I'll Never Fall in Love Again) 

_**Next: Part III: You Mixed-Up Siciliano**_

19


End file.
